The sun was beating down fiercely. The afternoon was silent and lethargic in the heat, except for the steady tuk-tuk-tuk of the coppersmith. The sparrows had taken shelter in the cool shade of a neem tree. Some were taking advantage of the dry earth to have a vigorous dust bath, preening and cleaning their feathers. A few were hopping about, half-hearted, looking for insects. Others were dozing comfortably amidst the whispering leaves. A squirrel was running noisily up and down the trunk.
“Oye, stop that,” grumbled a sparrow at the squirrel. “It’s much too hot to rush about like that!”
Suddenly, the sun was hidden by an enormous cloud, a flash of lightning split the sky in two and a clap of thunder shook the earth. The squirrel shrieked and scurried into a hollow in the tree trunk and the startled sparrows tumbled over each other in fright. An arrow of light came out of the cloud, flying at great speed straight towards the neem tree, and growing bigger and bigger.
The sparrows, blinded by the light, closed their eyes. Then one, bolder than the rest, peeked to see what it was all about — and gasped. A magnificent bird, with golden feathers so bright that they rivalled the fierce rays of the sun itself, towered over them. It was Garud, king of the birds.
“Ho, story birds! Open your eyes,” said Garud. “Your king stands before you!”
The sparrow recovered from their fright. “Welcome, Great One!” they chirruped, bowing and bobbing. “What is your command?”
“The Great Cloud Bird has called the birds of the world together once more. He appointed you the story birds a year ago and wants to hear how you have progressed. Be there!”
Garud unfolded his great wings, and, without waiting for a response, soared up into the sky. He vanished as quickly as he had come, a streak of light disappearing into the sun.
The squirrel had watched it all from his hollow in the tree trunk. “Wow! Your king came himself to speak to you!” he squeaked, impressed.
The sparrows didn’t reply. They were too busy chattering in excitement.
“We must leave at once,” they cried.
“But we must plan our route first!” said a pragmatic one.
“Shall we pack some food?” asked one.
“No, no, we’ll find plenty on the way,” reassured another.
“Hey, squirrel,” called the eldest of the flock. “Please hold the fort till we return. We’ll send news when we can.”
“Goodbye, goodbye,” called the sparrows as they flew up and away.
“Goodbye,” called the squirrel after them, feeling very important to have been left in charge.
Story copyright © Shaiontoni Bose and Rohini Chowdhury 2022
The story birds have been collecting stories for a year. They are taking a break for the summer. They will be back with new stories from the weekend of August 6-7.
In the meantime, look out for postcards from the story birds sending you their news.
And do visit The Story Birds ARCHIVE for stories you may have missed or would like to read again.
A big thank you to all our readers for staying with us so far, especially to those who signed up at the beginning without knowing what to expect. It’s been an enriching year for us. Your support has encouraged us and pushed us to look farther and deeper into the world of stories.
Yes.. story birds deserve rest. They too, need to migrate...for healthier reasons..Thanks for all your chirpy tales.
Ah! The sparrows are off on an adventure! Good! I look forward to hearing their stories when they return.
Enjoy your summer, friends! 🐿