"Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened"

-

      "Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened"  Anatole France, the Nobel Laureate in literature in 1921, cannot be wrong. I have no idea whether he has kept an animal, but I firmly believe what he said is true. As we moved to a new house not far from where I was born and brought up, I took many things with me that I held dear. It includes various collections, such as books, stamps, coins, letters, tools, plants, and the like. However, it was not easy to leave behind many of the domestic animals we grew up with, like goats, rabbits, chickens, cats, a dog, and countless wild ones.

However, it has been a rustic idea to introduce chickens, ducks, or rabbits to our backyard in a newly settled neighbourhood. There was no proper fencing in place to enjoy the status of a nice neighbour. Nor did we like the idea of raising them in confinement. But the idea that there must be some animals living around us, sharing our yard, began to knock inside me to an irresistible frequency. Without thinking much, we tried our luck with ducks in 2021 with a small flock of two drakes and four hens, as I was forced to enjoy a longer vacation at home due to the COVID-19 lockdown and couldn't fly back to work.

         It was a beautiful scene, they forage for grains and insects with their extended bills across the yard. Quick were they in sensing both prey and predators. They were profuse layers, and my kids enjoyed their wacky ways and chased them from a makeshift, pond-like water hole, fluttering both their wings, holding them straight up, standing vertically to shake off the water droplets, easing them from the weight of the drench, and grooming themselves perched over a boulder, log of wood or a raised veg patch. One among the flock was a Vigova, the big, white, muscular beauty among ducks from Vietnam. Interestingly, Vigova was bred by interbreeding to meet the needs of war-torn Vietnam. They made the best use of deserted waterlogged trenches dug during the war and thankfully fed the people back to health. He commanded the flock

    We had one to five eggs almost daily, even to share with neighbours, unless it rained incessantly. That was an educational experience for kids. Kids became curious and looked up more about their newfound winged friends, and came up with wide eyes full of new knowledge: that ducks have a field of vision of up to 340 degrees and a blind spot of 20 degrees behind their heads. However, that love affair didn't last long. The authorities eased the regulations, and the airports reopened for international air travel. We packed up, gave the ducks away to one of the neighbours, and flew back.

    As I settled back home again, the same thoughts revisited, and this time, we started with rabbit. The first batch came with a New Zealand white mom and her six adorable kittens with snowy white coats and bright pinkish eyes. Neighbors came to visit as if we had a new born, some came with carrots as treats to the hutch. Ansu later found out that it is only a popular myth that carrots are the natural diet of rabbit planted by cartoons and that is not true. When I was a child, our rabbits never knew what carrot was. That rabbit too didn't last long, as the rabbit hutch smelled foul and attracted rat snakes driving my wife crazy and kids were terrified to see rat snakes tattling trapped in the safety net. Having learned the lesson hard way, that nothing works without family support. That left with  me with one option to give them a farewell. The pet shop was happy to receive them back but my eyes caught hold of another one across the cages on display. I will be back soon for you.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Empty Quarter / Rubu’al Khali: Dreamwork of Golden Grains

-
Image
It first rained on Rann of Kutch, the drought-stricken salt desert, on the day Fathima entered the village . Everyone still remembered that day and the girl who had brought rainclouds along into that Monsoon-forgotten hamlet. I recall the images I conjured up while reading The Love Across the Salt Desert by Keki N Daruwalla. No one dared to do the impossible by crossing the desert except those few who did so for “reasons of their own”. Nawab Hussain, for instance, made the journey for “the daughter of the spice seller; she who smelled of cloves and cinnamon”. Ever since reading that story I have romanticized the desert. Here I am now in a distant relative of the Rann of Kutch: Rubu’al Khali, commonly known as the Empty Quarter, a territory shared by Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Oman, and  Yemen.          The silence, the clarity, the mystery, the remoteness, the vastness, the serenity, the eternity and the capricious nature of a wild, other-worldly de...
Read more

Mandi: From Pen to Plate in 11 Frames

-
Image
Mandi (مندي) is a special steak and rice dish, a staple at special occasions such as Eid, parties, and wedding feasts among Arabs. Originating in Hadhramouth, Yemen, it soon made inroads into the entire Arabian peninsula, Sub-Saharan Africa, and recently the Southeast Asian countries too, mostly on account of its oil-free and exotic style of cooking. In short, the fat from suspended meat drips onto the rice being cooked underneath. The meat gets exquisitely tender, which is probably why the name "mandi" (from nada ندى meaning 'dew' or 'snowflakes') was chosen. Mutton (preferably lamb), chicken, and camel are the usual meats prepared this way.  Let us start with a three-month-old lamb raised nibbling on tender blades of subtropical desert grass and shrubs, often roaming free on vast stretches of the mountainous landscape. At the peak of summer, these lambs even dig up the land and eat the roots of plants underneath. A pit is dug about four feet d...
Read more

You smell of strawberry…

-
Image
Because you really are one ... berry much so. Not from a punnet I dumped into my shopping trolley while strolling through the freezer aisle of the supermarket, but handpicked from a planter whose bushy growth I had watered to fruition at our doorstep. I bought her almost five years ago at the Thursday market from a farmer who was about to pack up for the day. Obviously the strawberry plant in question was among the few unsold ones, abandoned by earlier strawberry lovers after favoring her healthier sisters. She survived five Abha winters and withstood neglect during the few weeks I went mad grading papers without being able to nurse her. Almost zero care. Maybe my farm guru, Damoderettan, was correct when he said: “Lending your pair of eyes to your plants is the best fertilizer". Interestingly, three things conspired to produce this post. First, the Hijri New Year; second, the word ‘locavore’ as a new addition to my personal vocabulary; and third, a rather compulsive ...
Read more