📖 Morocco Hykayat | Story Viewer

Source: Moroccan oral tradition
Adapted by Morocco Hykayat
Once upon a time, in the oldest of times... when basil and lilies bloomed in the lap of the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him. This is a story from the deep wells of Moroccan heritage, a tale of vanity and the stubborn nature of one's true self.

There was an owl who had a son named "Boubker." Young Boubker saw himself as a majestic predator of the skies, a noble raptor of the heights, despite being nothing more than "the son of an owl." Driven by blind ambition, he sent his mother to the King of the Skies—the Noble Falcon—to ask for his daughter's hand in marriage.

The mother owl flew hesitantly until she reached the falcon's crag. She knocked at the door with a trembling heart. The Falcon emerged with his usual majesty and asked sternly:
— "What brings you here, Owl, in the bright light of day?"
She replied with a shaky voice: "I come seeking an alliance; I ask for your daughter’s hand for my son, Boubker."

The Falcon gazed at her for a long time, then spoke with wisdom: "I do not marry my daughter to anyone but he who proves his worth. I shall test your son. If his hunt is true, he shall have what he desires."

The mother returned to her son, filled with dread. She told him: "Boubker, prepare yourself. Show your courage and might, for your 'Uncle' Falcon will test your skill in the hunt. Do not fail me."
Boubker replied with a puff of false pride: "Fear not, Mother. The matter is easier than you think. I am at the peak of my strength and vigor."

On the appointed day, the Falcon came to the owl’s house. Boubker strutted out, feigning absolute confidence. The Falcon said: "Let us go and see the metal you are made of. We shall head out to hunt pigeons." The mother whispered to the Falcon: "I beg of you, brother Falcon, be gentle with him and do not be too harsh in your test."

The Falcon soared high into the heart of the sky, and Boubker followed, flapping his wings exhaustedly to keep pace. After some time, the Falcon’s piercing eyes spotted two pigeons drinking at a clear pond. He asked his companion:
— "Do you see anything, Boubker?"
Boubker, staring into the empty void of the bright day, replied: "I see nothing, Uncle Falcon. Where are they?"

The Falcon shook his head and thought: "This lad is inexperienced, and his sight is dim in the light." He pointed clearly: "Look at that pond."
Only then did Boubker say: "Ah... now I see them. Two pigeons drinking."
The Falcon said: "Dive and catch them."
Boubker stammered with hidden cowardice: "No, you dive first, so I may learn from you."

The Falcon struck like a falling arrow. In an instant, he had seized his pigeon with mastery. They returned to the heights and waited until two more pigeons landed. The Falcon said: "Now it is your turn, Boubker. Show me your skill."

Boubker launched himself toward the earth. But instead of hitting the pigeon, he missed his mark entirely and drove his beak deep into the sticky mud at the pond's edge! His head sank, and his wings thrashed in the mire until he could no longer move.

The Falcon waited, but Boubker did not emerge. He searched here and there, only to find a group of children who had discovered the "strange bird" stuck in the mud. They had grabbed him and made him a toy, tossing him from one hand to another. The Falcon took his own pigeon and departed; a noble soul does not accept humiliation.

The mother owl came rushing, crying: "Where did you leave my son, Falcon?"
He replied coldly: "I left him at the pond. He went down to hunt and never came up. So, I went on my way."
The mother went mad with grief: "I want no marriage and no alliance! Just bring me back my son! Bring him to me from wherever he is!"

The Falcon’s heart softened. He soared high until he spotted Boubker in the hands of the children. He swooped down like a falling star, snatched him from their hands with a single stroke of his wing, and placed him before his mother.
The Falcon asked in disdain: "What happened to you, Boubker? And how did you become a toy for children?"

Boubker, dusting the dirt off his feathers with utter arrogance, replied:
— "I actually wanted to catch both pigeons at once, but I tripped over the weight of my own ambition!"

The Falcon fell silent. He found no words for such blind vanity. He turned away, muttering the wisdom of the ancestors:
"An owl's chick can never become a falcon. The noble remains noble, and the eye can never rise above the eyebrow."

And here our story ends. It traveled from valley to valley, and we stayed with the good folk.