2
With
the dawn, comes the sound
And then suddenly, in one very small
moment of time, the orange shade in the sky glowed brighter, and all the trees
seemed to come alive. It began with Bulbul, the redvented bulbul, whistling a
soft note, trying to wake up her partner in the nearby branches. Phoolchuki,
the purple sunbird, picked up that note, in the small thicket of weeds and
grasses. Phoolchuki was searching for his partner, for she could not be seen
easily inside the thicket. His frantic calls set off Dominga, the magpie-robin,
sleeping on the topmost branches of a nearby Babool tree.
Dominga, the male Oriental Magpie Robin -
He loved to sing from the topmost branches
Teetiraa and Teetiri were good friends of Dominga.
His morning song woke up the grassland.
[Photograph - Savio Fonseca]
Teetiraa knew that Dominga was a very
proud bird. He loved to hear his voice, he had told Teetiri. She had for once,
agreed with him. Teetiri had said that Dominga sang for two reasons. Firstly,
was to tell all other birds that he could sing beautifully. And secondly, he
sang loudly in order to prevent his brothers, uncles or nephews from singing
nearby. Teetiraa had seen Dominga chase away his male relatives on several
occasions, and therefore was not unhappy that he had to agree with Teetiri.
Dominga's song woke up Chimini and her
large family. And, instantly the small grassland between the forest and the
sandy banks along the river was filled with sound. Lots of sound. The Chimini
family was very noisy. They seemed to talk to each other all at once.
Chatter-Chatter-Chatter-Chatter seemed to be followed by
Chatter-Titter-Chatter-Titter. Sometimes one did not know if at all there was a
purpose in all their talking. Their loud chatter in the babool trees, seemed to
get Salonki, the common myna, and her family started. Salonki's family and
several other Myna families preferred to rest together in the large Chinch
(tamarind) trees that stood bordering the grassland with the nearby forest.
During the day, only her partner
accompanied Salonki, while they moved around hunting for food. At times, eight
to ten of her brothers and sisters and their respective partners came whenever
food was available. At night though, the Chinch tree was filled with hundreds
of myna families, and their sounds at dusk could easily drown the sounds of the
Chimini families in the babool trees. It was indeed amazing, thought Teetiraa and
Teetiri. Here they were, one partner to the other, only the two of them,
content in living with each other, and these other crazy birds, were intent on
living with hundreds and thousands of their relatives, in the same tree. In the
same tree? Would they not get tired of seeing so many relatives all the time?
How much more boring can it be, thought Teetiraa.
