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The Little Ninja Sparrows
The Little Ninja Sparrows
The Little Ninja Sparrows
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The Little Ninja Sparrows

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The adventures of two runaway baby sparrows by award-winning author Ranjit Lal.

Chiddy and Gouri, two baby sparrows, are bullied mercilessly by their elder siblings. They are so traumatized that they absolutely refuse to learn how to fly. Instead, they run away, kindly assisted by Breaking Wind—a jovial breeze. But t

LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 10, 2017
ISBN9789387164284
The Little Ninja Sparrows
Author

Ranjit Lal

Ranjit Lal is the author of around 45 books for children and adults . He was awarded the Zeiss Wildlife Lifetime Conservation Award for 2019 for writing 'with exceptional literary skills' on the conservation of wildlife, especially birds. As a journalist, he has had well over 2000 articles published in the national and international press. He lives in Delhi.

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    Book preview

    The Little Ninja Sparrows - Ranjit Lal

    Little Ninjas in the Nest

    ‘My dear, the last egg has finally hatched!’ Shrimati Chiddya the house sparrow excitedly told her husband, Shri Churi Bahadur Chiddya. And added with pride welling over, ‘And it’s a little boy chick!’

    Her husband looked at the revolting, naked pink wheezing blob at the bottom of the nest and stuck out his chest. ‘At last! After three daughters, I have a son! I have a son!’ he chirruped, strutting around. ‘Blow the trumpets! Toot the horns! Bombard the social media! Let it go viral! Let everyone know! Let the celebrations begin!’ He whirred down to the verandah railing and surveyed the scene before him, shouting delightedly, ‘I have a son! I have a son!’ till his wife had to shush him because the babies were sleeping.

    Their residence, No. 1A, was located in the verandah of the fourth-floor apartment of a building called ‘Sunshine Towers’. Down below was a garden studded with flowering bushes—lantana, raat-ki-raani and mehendi—bordered by trees—neem, peepal and acacia—that screened it from the road beyond. There was also a small playground and sandpit, where Churi Bahadur Chiddya and his wife (and the neighbours) sand-bathed and anted to get rid of parasites in their plumage. The residents of ‘Sunshine Towers’ scattered birdseed, namkeen and fruit in a feeding platform every morning.

    Shri Chiddya glanced up proudly at his (disgracefully untidy) nest as his wife asked him:

    ‘What should we call him, dear? What should we name him?’

    ‘How about Chiddy?’ he suggested. ‘Chiddy Bahadur Chiddya sounds rather good!’

    And so that’s what the little runt was called.

    The couple’s three daughters—Champa, Chameli and Chamak, already hatched and squashed together in the nest—were not in the least impressed.

    ‘Pah, now we’ll have to share everything with that little squirt!’ Champa said, rolling her eyes.

    ‘And just see, Ma and Pa will bring him the fattest worms and caterpillars!’ Chameli added. ‘You know how goo-goo gaga they get over boys.’

    ‘Yes, and worms and maggots with lashings of ketchup and mayo and barbeque sauce and whatnot!’ Champa said disgustedly.

    ‘Not if we can help it, girls!’ Chamak smirked and promptly sat down on top of her squirming baby brother.

    ‘Mama, Papa, we’re famished!’ the three hefty sisters wheezed together, opening their beaks wide. ‘Feed us, feed us, feed us! We haven’t eaten in fifteen minutes!’

    Shri Chiddya and his good missus immediately took off to shop for baby caterpillars in the bushes below. Alone in the nest the three sisters plotted on.

    ‘Should we just smother him and be done with it?’

    ‘Or let him have all the hairiest spiders and prickliest caterpillars that Ma and Pa bring? He’ll either choke or be allergic and no one can blame us for anything!’

    ‘We can push him out of the nest right now and say he just fell out.’

    ‘Nah, they’ll never believe that! Besides we’re supposed to be babysitting him!’

    ‘Yeah, babysitting on him!’ Chamak grinned, wriggling her fat bottom on top of her little brother’s head.

    ‘Bah, what a pathetic wimp!’

    Sadly, Champa who had made that last remark appeared to be right. The baby boy sparrow squeaked plaintively and wriggled ineffectually at the bottom of the nest, outnumbered and outweighed by his sisters.

    ‘Ma, tell them!’ he would fuss, trying to catch his mother’s attention, ‘They’re squishing me!’ But he’d just be elbowed into a corner of the nest, or have Chamak or Champa or Chameli’s fat smelly bottom in his face.

    Of course, his parents did try and feed him first (with the best tidbits) when they returned from shopping trips, but invariably the three big sisters would shove and push little Chiddy to one corner, or even grab and yank out the morsel he was desperately trying to gulp down. By this time usually, their parents would have unloaded all the tender baby caterpillars, worms and spiders they had brought, and would whir off for yet another round of shopping, so they didn’t really notice that their son and heir was not getting very much to eat. Also, they were hardwired to stuff the widest open mouths they could see, which needless to say belonged to Champa, Chameli and Chamak. The girls set up such a shrill, nerve-wracking ruckus (which had the same effect as a dentist’s drill) that their parents just had to shut them up. And it could be dangerous if a cat or crow heard the noise and decided to investigate. Thus the runt had to be satisfied with bits and pieces of leftover worm and caterpillar and horrible splinter-like spiders’ hairs that fell to the bottom of the nest. So he remained weak and small, squirming pathetically in the nest as he tried to squeeze between his overweight sisters and catch the attention of his parents.

    ‘Why do you all hate me?’ he asked his sisters one morning while their parents had taken off for another round of caterpillar shopping. ‘What have I done to you?’

    ‘We hate you because you’re a boy!’ Champa told him.

    ‘And we know how parents dote over boys!’

    ‘But that’s not true! Ma and Pa don’t dote over me at all! They hardly know I exist!’

    ‘They do too! If they had their way, they’d only feed you and let us starve to death!’

    ‘And we are not going to let that happen!’

    ‘Girl power zindabad!’

    ‘So sit tight and stop whining, because that’s the way it’s going to be!’

    So little Chiddy sat tight and stopped whining. But he dreamt big dreams. One morning, he caught a glimpse of black kites diving and cavorting in the skies above and swore that when he fledged he would fly like them. He would soar in the heavens and then dive-bomb his sisters one by one, see how they liked that! He would set high-speed flying records! He’d be the best aerobatic sparrow in the world; he’d do barrel rolls and spear-dives and...and whatever other stunts falcons and swifts did! But then, one morning, he somehow managed to peep over the edge of the nest at the ground below. Far, far, far below...so far below he felt dizzy and his knees folded up and he fell back weakly to the bottom of his nest. Just what had his parents been thinking, building their home so high up in the heavens! It would take half an hour to hit the ground (with such a messy splat!), even while free-falling! He wasn’t going to leave his cozy nest for anything. And yes, he decided suddenly, if he couldn’t be the world’s best aerobatic sparrow, he’d be the world’s first (and best, needless to say) non-flying sparrow! He’d be world famous and would set an example for other sparrow-chicks who felt the same way.

    Meanwhile, similar drama was being enacted in the neighbouring nest apartment (No. 2A) at the other end of the large verandah, where both these residences (1A and 2A) had been built. The only difference here was that the last to hatch in 2A was a girl sparrow.

    ‘It’s a girl,’ Shrimati Bhuriya informed her husband. ‘But I don’t mind; we already have two sturdy boys. She can help me keep the nest clean and do Luchcha and Lafanga’s laundry and homework for them!’

    ‘Yes,’ her husband agreed, ‘and as soon as she fledges she can help us feed them too! Those two have the appetite of horses!’

    ‘A girl?’ Luchcha said with unpleasant glee in his voice.

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