The Tale of Guru and the Crane

We have a fantastic story today from our dear friend - Dr. S. Mitra, Assistant Professor, AIIMS, Bhubaneswar, who is also a photographer of considerable talent. On our request, he submitted a story on Sarus cranes. Not only are these birds tall (they grow to six feet!) but astonishingly beautiful. Check his photograph below. The top one is the original that Suvradeep submitted to us, the one below is what I edited - to focus on the birds. Then watch the three minute (www.wildfilmsindia) video. Another website we love on cranes is this, which talks about the threats to the birds from power line collisions, illegal conversion of wetlands, and poisoning by agricultural and industrial chemicals. We had not heard about these birds before, but now, after reading about them and seeing them, we doubt we will ever forget them.

Read on his amazing story.

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I woke up early in the morning. It was drizzling outside and my sleep was interrupted by the morning chill. As I adjusted my wrapper, I heard it again.

A trumpeting call.

I had never heard such loud trumpet in my life.

My name is Guru. I stay in a small village in North India at the border of two states called Punjab and Himachal Pradesh. While

Punjab is known for its strength, Himachal is considered the land of God because of its snow-clad mountains and tranquil beauty.

Monsoon had already arrived and the crop harvesting was at its peak. Our village had turned lush green.

I was ten years old and that was the first time I heard such a loud call. I had read that elephants can call very loud and tigers have deafening roars. I was used to the crescendos and trills of tiny wood birds and cackles of geese. But this was different altogether.

I wore my slippers and peeped through my window.

The loud call was coming from two birds and they were dancing. I could barely believe my eyes. They were taller than the average men in our village and even my dad who was 5’8”. One of the birds was shorter than the other but they both had a regal posture. They were practicing a ritual, I thought. Both were facing the sky, their mouths open, standing in the same pose, calling in unison.

After a few moments, the birds started dancing around each other. I had seen the ceremony of folk dance in our village. We call it Giddha. My mother used to wear bright colored dresses and used to dance vivaciously in that ceremony. Everybody used to look pretty, vibrant and colorful in Giddha. I felt that these birds were imitating the same ritual. They had beautiful white plumage and their head and neck were deep red. They were passionate about their dance and passionate about each other. Their mutual ritual lasted for few minutes and then they stood still, side by side, looking at the nature, enjoying it bit by bit.

As they stopped their trumpet and dance, I suddenly became aware of the silence around me. The sounds of drizzle, the whizzing of the pigeons and the squirrels chasing each other became louder. I was possibly in some form of trance.

The following days went by in a whir. I watched the pair of great birds continuing their affair before my eyes. It became my habit to watch them every day. They built a mammoth nest in a nearby tree and out came a chick within a month. The chick was yellowish brown in color and it followed its parents everywhere. The big birds wandered our fields and foraged in the marshes though they kept safe distance from me and all the distractions.

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I waited for Gyani Uncle to come home. Gyani Uncle is our distant relation. I didn’t know his real name. But he was unanimously called Gyani due to his profound knowledge in all scientific matters. Gyani in Hindi means knowledgeable. He was an educated person and he used to be a teacher in an eminent institute in New Delhi, the capital of India. He used to visit us sometimes and used to bring me sweets and gifts from Delhi.

I waited for three months for Gyani Uncle to come home. The chick had grown quite a bit by this time and had started showing a brown patch exactly at the same site as its parents. Only, the color of the patch in its parents was a deep red.

Gyani Uncle told me that this bird is called Sarus crane, a resident bird in the northern and central part of India. One of the tallest birds living, Sarus cranes stay close to human beings and marshlands. Then he told me the meaning of Sarus. It is actually a Sanskrit word. Most Indian languages are derived from Sanskrit as it’s the mother of most of the Indian dialects. Sarus in Sanskrit means “Of the lake/water” and also “The great goose”. He also told me that the scientific folks call it Antigone in their biological parlance.

Why Antigone? I was immediately inquisitive and gave my uncle a quizzical look.

Gyani uncle scratched his beard for a while. He looked amused and thoughtful.

"Do you know Oedipus?" he asked. "Oedipus was a Greek king who married his own mother Jocasta. They had a daughter called Antigone. Her brothers quarrelled with each other. Etocles, the eldest of them, banished his brother Polynices. Furious with Etocles, Polynices attacked the city of Thebes and a great war loomed large on the beautiful city of Thebes. The war killed both the brothers and Creon, their uncle, took the crown. Creon, the new ruler issued an order preventing any Greek to pay homage to Polynices, the younger brother, as his attack on the city had caused destruction and death of the ruling king. However, Antigone defied the decree at the cost to her life and went to pay last tribute to her brother. Since then, Antigone had been considered a term meaning “Parent-like” or “Parent-worthy”."

He told me Sarus cranes are wonderful parents and show equal fidelity in terms of their partners. Hence they are called Antigone. They almost never divorce their partner or choose another. If one dies of a disaster, the other stays alone and does not survive long.

Gyani Uncle stayed for a week with us and then left for Delhi. He stayed alone in Delhi in a rented apartment full of books, pictures, and cassettes. He always travelled with a camera. His room was full of those photos. Photos of smiling faces, black and white photos of his older time, ethereally beautiful places, and colorful birds. In fact, he was the one who showed me the ibides and passerines. He taught me the names of different flowers and trees, taught me to identify different aromas of grass, honey, and petrichor.

I grew up following the life style of the cranes in my locality. I followed them every year. Their regal mating dance, loud trumpeting calls, mammoth nests, and gorgeous parenthood were adorable. Their respect for each other was unprecedented.

I grew a few more years and a few more inches.

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I woke up early. It was drizzling and my sleep was interrupted by the morning chill. As I adjusted my wrapper, I heard it again.

A trumpeting call.

I had listened to these calls for last few years and was well acquainted with them.

But today, it was different. I was scared.

I forgot my slippers and came out to enquire. There was heavy raining last night and a gusty wind had blown off the electric post in the nearby field. The female crane lay lifeless and the male was letting out a loud cry.

He stood there the whole day, often circling the lifeless body of his partner.

He will spend his last days alone.

He will probably survive a half-life or no life at all.

We got a call that evening. From Delhi. Gyani Uncle had passed away. A sudden death. Cardiac arrest, the doctors said.

I came to Delhi with my father for the last rites of my uncle. He was a bachelor and we were the closest surviving relatives. His room was full of the aroma of the old books and photos.

I sat on his cot and put his pillow on my lap, remembering his love and affection for me, wondering why he had stayed a bachelor. A dilapidated black and white photograph was what I found from underneath his pillow. It was of a girl. Her eyes were very expressive. She was smiling sweetly.

And I remembered Gyani Uncle’s baritone -

“Both fidelity and infidelity are highly conserved in nature."

Written by -

Suvradeep Mitra.

Asst Professor, Dept of Pathology/ Lab Medicine, AIIMS, Bhubaneswar

MBBS (Hons) (Gold Medal)

M.D (Pathology) (PGIMER, Chandigarh)

D.M (Histopathology) (PGIMER, Chandigarh)

PDCC (Renal and Transplant Pathology) (ICP)

THE END.