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Hello hello and welcome to Storynory! You’re listening to Jana and I’m back with an Indian tale from The Panchatantra!
The Tiny Birds and the Mighty Sea
This story is dedicated to Nithya, Adarsh and their cousins from India, Kethan and Karunya who generously support Storynory!

Along by the shimmering seashore, lived a pair of Tittibha birds. This humble couple were small, sprightly birds, no bigger than a child’s hand, with feathers the colour of autumn leaves. All day long they loved to hear the sea singing her endless song as her waves washed over the sand with a long, deep whoosh.

Now the mother bird was expecting and needed to find a space to lay her eggs. She hopped around nervously, leaving little claw marks in the sand. “Dear husband,” she said, "It is time for me to lay the eggs. Find us a safe spot! Away from the water, mind you.”
The father bird puffed up his chest, spread his wings dramatically, and spoke in his most convincing tone, “My dearest, look around. This shore is perfect! The warm sand, the soothing breeze, the rhythmic waves—what better cradle for our children? And what better lullaby than the sound of the sea?”

She narrowed her eyes. “That is your idea of a cradle? The sea is arrogant for a reason—it is vast, it is deep, and very powerful. We small, humble creatures should know better than to challenge something so dangerous as the sea!”
Her husband’s feathers ruffled at her words. “What are you saying, my dear? Do you truly believe that big is beautiful and might is right? Does an elephant deserve more than a mouse? Does the law of nature proclaim an oak tree is superior to a daisy?”
“Well yes, that is the way life is…” she replied. “If the big and the powerful tell us that the sky is pink with purple spots, we say, “Yes, your honours, the sky is pink with purple spots, and if they tell us that we are no longer Tittibha birds but have become penguins, we bow and say, “Yes your honours, we have turned into penguins and all is good in the land.”

“Well that’s not fair! We birds must stand up for our rights!”
All this time, the sea was overhearing the conversation between the tiny Tittibha birds. “Such boldness,” she rumbled. “From a creature so small! We’ll see what happens when I teach these birds a lesson.”
Eventually the mother bird grew tired of arguing with her husband and she laid her eggs on the sand, just as he suggested.
When the Tittibha birds flew off to find food, the sea sent her waves creeping and climbing, and then—whoosh—scooped up the eggs. The mother bird returned to an empty nest:
“Ohh ..Where… are… my… eggs?” she said, her voice trembling with worry.
“I can’t think. But when I find who stole our eggs, they’ll be sorry,” stammered her husband, hopping around anxiously.

“You can’t think? That is because you have worms for brains. It was the sea who took them, of course, who else? What is your plan now, oh mighty protector of eggs?” She wailed.
He pulled himself up to his full height - all six inches - and declared: “I will fight the sea. I will dry her up, one beakful at a time!”
“You are going to drink the entire sea? Don’t you know the water is very salty?”
“Yes! Fairness isn’t just for the big and powerful—it’s for little birds too!” Just then the sea rushed into the shore and covered him with a wave, but the little Tittibha's head emerged above the foam and he flapped his wings crying “Fight! Fight! Fight! For what is right right right!”

The gulls flying overhead echoed back, “Fight! Fight Fight! For what is right right right!”
The mother bird shook her head.
“Fine. If you’re going to take on the sea, you’d better call your friends.”
So, he summoned the swan, the crane, the peacock, and every other bird he knew. They gathered on the shore, eyeing the vast sea.

The peacock shook his head. “This is ridiculous. You can’t drink the sea.”
“Can too!” said the father bird. “We’ll all take turns.”

“No can do, I'm afraid. Far too salty for my taste,” muttered the crane.

The swan suggested, “Why not ask King Garuda for help? He’s wise, powerful, and might actually have a plan.”

Garuda, the king of the birds, was perched on a mountain peak, gazing down at the clouds. His huge wings glinted with golden feathers and he had a beak as sharp as a sword. His royal Highness was surprised to see that the little Tittibha bird had flown all the way up to speak to him.

“Why do you disturb me?” he asked, in a deep voice rolling like thunder.
The father bird fluttered forward. “O King, the sea has stolen our eggs. She thinks she can do as she pleases just because she’s big. But justice is for little birds too! We need your help.”

Garuda’s eyes blazed with anger: “The sea has indeed insulted my birds! Unacceptable. I will ensure justice!”

Garuda soared down to the shore. He landed before the sea, who rolled back her waves lazily.

“Garuda,” she said, “why all this drama? Is this about those tiny birds?
Let it go! Let it go!”

“You swallowed their eggs. Return them, or face my wrath!” boomed Garuda.
The sea foamed. “Your wrath? Please, what can you do? Peck at me? Stir my water? I am the sea! Rivers bow to me. Do not try me!

Even the sun cannot dry me!

You may be a God, but you’re still a bird.

To take on the sea is simply absurd.”

Just then, a flash of light split the sky. Lord Vishnu descended, his four arms holding a conch, discus, mace, and—most worryingly—a thunderbolt.

“Good morning, Sea,” said Vishnu, “You, it seems, have stolen the eggs of my servant’s servant. Return them at once.”

The sea rolled her waves in mock defiance. “Oh, come now, Lord Vishnu. Surely you have better things to do. All this fuss over a few eggs?

I am the sea! Ferocious and cunning I can be!
Crashing waves and hurricanes, soaring high ..
But not in vain.

If you strike me with that thunderbolt, It won’t be my fault.
Chaos—flooded towns, wounded sailors, ruined crops.

Take caution, what you dare!
Or life will not be fair!”
Vishnu raised the thunderbolt, and the sea quivered. “You’re right of course. I don’t want to cause chaos, but I will if I have to,” Vishnu said. “Return the eggs now or face the consequences.”

The sea sighed deeply. “Fine, fine.
You win this time.
I’ll give back the eggs.
Though I say,
The sea does not forget.”

The eggs were returned to the delighted Tittibha birds. The father bird fluffed his feathers proudly. “See? Justice is for little birds too.”

The mother bird gave him a sideways look. “You’re lucky, Vishnu and Garuda agreed. Otherwise, you’d still be drinking the sea.”

The sea rumbled one last time, muttering, “Tiny little birds, giant egos,” as she retreated.

And that was ‘The Tiny Birds and the Mighty Sea.’ Read by me Jana for Storynory.com
So who do you think is right? Should little creatures stand up for justice, like the father bird believes? Should you fight for your rights? Or is the mother bird more realistic, when she says that small birds and animals should be careful not to upset the powerful? And if you do run up against somebody bigger than you, will laws and rules protect you?

What idea do you think is more realistic in the world? It’s something you can think about and discuss.

And I’d like to thank Nithya (6) and Adarsh (8)—and their cousins from India, Kethan (6) and Karunya (13) for supporting Storynory and for introducing the Tittibha birds to us.

And if any of our listeners would like to support us, the best way is via PayPal. See Storynory.com for details.

From me Jana at Storynory.com see you next time!