FEATHERS

 

If you folks recall your childhood days, we used to love to collect all kinds of feathers. If one could get hold of a peacock feather, it was ultimate. By the way, that colourful “eye-like” part at the tip of a peacock’s tail feather is called the “ocellus”.

 

I had one and placed it in my math’s textbook. They said ‘vidiya aati’ hai. (It means you gain knowledge and wisdom). Feathers gave you some ‘supernatural powers’ to learn was a belief. Math was my weakest subject. Psychologically, keeping that peacock feather helped.

 

My Granddad was a great ‘shikari’ and always used to have a “Black Francolin’s” (Kala Teetar) feather in his hat. We used to long to touch it and have a closer look. But it was taboo. He used to have various ‘trout spinners’ hooked to his hat too; dare we touch them.

 

Having stayed in a huge campus of the HH Maharaja of Kapurthala, collecting feathers of birds was not a big shake. Over the years, while accompanying dad on his ‘air gun’ trips, one never missed an opportunity to collect feathers and stow them in our textbooks, like we did to flowers.

 

Bigger feathers of Vultures, Kites and Hornbills tails were difficult to hide. We used to place them somewhere in between books to let vidya flow.

 

Pigeon feather was for Hindi, Dove was for History, Parrot was for physics, like that. The bigger feathers mentioned were for Punjabi, which I was not fluent with. I could neither read nor write till I prepared for and cleared the “Punjab Matric” exam as a private candidate. The only subject which did not need a feather was English.

 

Dad had a lot of “desi and imported roosters” in the backyard poultry. Their colourful feathers were no match. I also had a collection of feathers from the “jungle fowl” which were collected during our treks in the jungles of Kathgodam, in Uttarakhand. Then I joined NDA. It was curtains to the feather collection.

 

While in the Army, partridges were my favourite, both in the cooker as well feathers in my cap like granddad. Black partridges were common. One never missed an opportunity to bag one while on a reconnaissance mission almost three decades ago.

 

Today, it happened so that while unwinding the hosepipe to water the plants, I found a very familiar ‘tail feather’ lying on the garage floor. It definitely was a Dove’s feather. How did it land up in the garage? Strong winds called ‘Loo’ which have started blowing in the afternoons here in the desert must have carried it along with a cluster of dry leaves.

 

Doves love to groom themselves sitting on our Champa tree after having their quota of grains and water. They sit down to sharpen their beaks and clean their feathers. Sometimes, you can see a tiny feather floating in the air while they ‘service’ themselves. Many times, you see feathers stuck to the plants also. But dropping a tail fin is very uncommon.

 

I picked the feather up and showed it to my wife. We smiled and then this feather went into the dustbin. I drifted into nostalgia, as now there was no need to collect them for vidiya as such.

 

It was time to check the pomegranate bush we planted in the common garden. As I carried a mug of water towards it, I caught a glimpse of a lot of feathers strewn in the bed. One thing led to another. There were two clusters where the feathers were piled up. A bird had definitely died.

 

Just then I noticed a polythene bag full of feathers. My doubt got cleared immediately. This bird must have died in someone’s home. They would have collected the remains and thrown it at an ‘innocuous’ place to avoid any controversy.

 

It could have been a natural death due to heat, or a fight with a predatory bird where it would have got badly injured or even a cat could have killed it. But this was no way to dispose of the remains. Knowing people here, they would have collected it from their home and brought it far from there and thrown the polybag here. That is what they do when they release rats from rat traps.

 

Stray cats would now definitely poke their nose in the polythene and pull out whatever is left. In the bargain, feathers would fly with the wind and spread all over, mucking the place.

 

I felt sad for the bird. They are regular visitors to our feeders. Now there would be one less. I hope it is not the one that treats our home as her home.

 

Could the remains have been disposed of in a better manner? I wonder!!!!!!!!!

 

JAI HIND

© ® NOEL ELLIS