The only beauty that matters

Illustration: Satheesh Vellinezhi Hidden in the small village of Purbasthali in West Bengal was a large crescent-shaped lake. In winter, it was transformed into a carnival of birds. Naturally it attracted bird lovers who came there to get a glimpse of these exquisite beauties from faraway lands. Especially the beautiful red-crested pochard that came all the way from Europe.Proud pochardRuddy, a young red-crested pochard, had come to the lake the previous winter. He was aware of his species’ celebrity status among the birds. His large round orange head swelled with pride. “Birdwatchers come to see and photograph us,” he declared, as he shoved past a Purple Swamphen feeding on insects.“There’s enough food for everyone for everyone,” she snapped, as Ruddy swam by. “We care about our winter guests.”“But nobody cares about resident birds like you whom they see all year round,” scoffed Ruddy. “Or you,” he added, watching an old Bronze-winged Jacana gobble up an invertebrate. Glancing at a flock of lesser whistling ducks, he mocked, “And certainly not you drab looking birds.”“We might not be as pretty as you, Ruddy,” replied the leader of the flock who had spent many winters on the lake. “Nor important to some humans who, like you, value outward appearances. But, being one of us, you know our worth and the need to stand by each other.”Showing offRuddy dismissed the older bird’s advice with a shake of his bright red bill. Then, noticing a boat full of people on the lake, he decided to be the centre of their attention. But that was impossible surrounded by the lesser whistling ducks, ibis, common coot and the white-eyed pochard. So Ruddy decided to leave the flock. Illustration: Satheesh Vellinezhi “You are making a big mistake,” warned the Jacana who had seen many dangers in his lifetime and knew of ways to escape them.”“You want me to stay by your side because, without me, nobody will pay any attention to you,” exclaimed Ruddy, as he swam some distance away from the rest of the birds on the lake.“Birdwatchers like photographing us foraging,” he thought and began pecking at a water hyacinth. Ruddy’s idea worked. He succeeded in attracting the boatman’s attention. Except that the people on the boat were not birdwatchers or bird lovers.“Poachers!” squawked the old Jacana. But Ruddy was too far away to hear him. Other birds flapped their wings. But Ruddy was too busy foraging to notice their warning signals. Neither did he see the Purple Swamphen lead the rest of the birds to safety.So the old Jacana raced across the water on his slender legs and long toes and reached Ruddy in the blink of an eye. “Fly, my boy,” he shrieked.DangerRuddy lifted his head and looked right into the poacher’s gun trained on him. He froze. Immediately, the flock of lesser whistling ducks rose up from their hiding spot in the marshes. The sound of multiple wings flapping together startled the poacher, allowing Ruddy and the Jacana to fly away.But there was not enough time to fly out of the poacher’s range. So, the wise Jacana showed Ruddy a safe place among the floating vegetation on the lake; hideouts that only the resident birds were aware of.Ruddy realized that if it had not been for the kindness of the other birds, he would have been a dead duck. When the danger passed and the birds returned to foraging on the lake, Ruddy apologised for his haughty behaviour. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I now realise that the beauty of friendship is the only beauty that matters.” Published - July 17, 2026 09:20 am IST