Knight of the Night

ONGDEN LEPCHA
My first encounter with Knights of the Night, the Owl, was on 20 May 2011. It was a fledgling rescued from a passer-by and reared for 18 days. Kept in our bedroom from Day-1, it was immature and pocket-sized. My wife used to hold it on her forefinger and feed it small pieces of raw meat. Some nights it would roost on a piece of stick, tied horizontally on a potted plant- ficus. It was a spectacular sight to watch this fledgling hopping along the whole length of the stick, sometimes moving from the stick to every branch of the ficus picking leaves.
On Day 2, it started hopping and flying short distances, making us stay on alert. It also stopped roosting on the plant. Often it would go under the bed, feeding from a small saucer placed under the bed. The most interesting part that I had been longing for was its chirping. And then it began to call… ‘tsip-tsip’! To my ear, the call was similar to that of a chick. One evening, it was nowhere to be seen. We anxiously searched for it everywhere, in our room and other adjoining rooms. Nowhere to be found, it might have flown away, I said. “How can a barely few days old owlet slip away from a closed room?” my wife retorted.
We decided to look outside. With darkness closing in, we were joined by a few more legs.  We put our best foot forward looking outside, enquiring from tenants, neighbours etc. By then darkness had completely enshrouded us and put paid to our search. The bird could not be located despite concentrated effort. We gave up. My wife looked silent and disheartened, and moved towards the kitchen. I remember vividly a late dinner, a late night that night. That night few thoughts kept hitting my mind… that kept me awake.
The next morning, at the crack of dawn, she was awoken by a distinctive call. She tugged on me to wake up. But I did not pay heed. Minutes later, she switched on the light and woke me up. This time I woke up and sat upright. I too heard a call coming from the direction of our room’s door. I quietly unlatched the door. Again, the call… this time from the living room. I advanced slowly, switched on the light and looked for it. I saw the artificial flower stick, kept a few feet high on an earthen pot, shaking. I asked for a torch light and as I focussed the light inside, it stared at me. Finally we were able to locate it. We were over the moon! I assumed it lost its balance and slip in. She said, hunger and thirst compelled it to call.
Within a fortnight, everything changed like the foliage on the trees get darker and denser. Its colour-feather, beak, claw, eyeball, size, vocal, its feed etc started to change.  Sometimes perched on the T.V. set it would flap its wing or preen. When approached, it rose high-showing supremacy or sometimes make a ‘tak-tak’ call or raise its left-leg warning us to keep away. All this is a sign of good health and maturity. As more days passed, it started perching on vantage points of a room i.e. window panel. Godrej almirah, shelf, etc.
Soon, feeding also had to be done by a stick in order to avoid a nasty bite and also to reach the feed on high places. I found it sleeping or with its eyes closed many a times during daytime. While doing so, it often selected a window panel. Of course, easy to hold on to while sleeping. As darkness fell it would start calling or flying. One night it awoke us in the dead of night by dropping objects placed on a shelf. Seeing a live cockroach placed on the floor, it would swoop down and grab it with its sharp talons and fly back. It was mind-boggling to catch this wonderful sight.
I’m certain this majestic bird will make a kill on its own, find its territory, roosting site, kith and kin, more importantly a mate. It has grown to a size of a common myna [ruppi]. I cannot keep it any longer as my hands are tied. Finally, the red letter day arrived and it was released by my son on 06 June 2011 on his 10th birthday. It was released from the place, where it was rescued by a passer-by. It flew some 15 ft. away and perched on cryptomeria japonica tree looked at us and in return we waved a goodbye forever.