The Sarus That Dances Together, Stays Together

The Sarus crane, the tallest flying bird in the world, stands an impressive six feet tall with a wingspan of nearly eight feet. Its name comes from the Sanskrit word “sarasa,” meaning “bird of the lake.” For centuries, this elegant bird has been revered as a symbol of love, fidelity, and devotion.

Sarus cranes are known to mate for life, and their bond is so strong that if one partner dies, the other is believed to grieve to the point of starving itself to death. Because of this, they are often regarded as emblems of lifelong companionship. In parts of Uttar Pradesh and Rajasthan, newlyweds are still gifted Sarus crane dolls as blessings for a long and harmonious marriage. In some villages, it is even a tradition for the couple to view a pair of Sarus immediately after their wedding ceremony, as a sign of good fortune.

Among the Gondi people, Sarus cranes are considered sacred—hunting or eating them is strictly taboo. Their cultural significance stretches far beyond India. In Buddhism, the bird has a special place in lore. Legend has it that young Prince Siddharth once rescued and nursed an injured Sarus back to health, a story that continues to shape Buddhist reverence for the species. Fittingly, Nepal has established a Sarus sanctuary at Lumbini, the birthplace of the Buddha.

Across Southeast Asia, the crane’s presence carries deep symbolism. In Vietnam, spotting a crane before setting out on a journey is considered auspicious, while harming one—or even its eggs—is thought to bring lifelong misfortune.

In India, the Sarus crane is most commonly found in Uttar Pradesh, Rajasthan, and parts of Maharashtra. I’ve had the privilege of photographing them in Bharatpur and near Mathura—both unforgettable experiences. What captivated me most was witnessing their elaborate courtship. The male first offers gifts to his chosen partner before the pair breaks into a mesmerizing mating dance, leaping and twirling in perfect rhythm while their trumpet-like calls echo across the wetlands.

One crisp winter morning in Bharatpur, I was fortunate to witness this devotion unfold before my eyes. The mist still hung over the marsh when the male bent down and picked up something glistening from the ground—a shiny snail. With deliberate grace, he walked over and offered it to his partner, as though presenting a precious jewel. She accepted it gently, and in that instant, their bond felt almost human—tender, intimate, and timeless. Then, as if sealing their love, both lifted their heads skyward and let out their resonant trumpeting calls, the sound carrying across the stillness of the wetlands. It was less a call than a celebration—a moment of pure connection. My camera managed to capture the entire sequence, but what stayed with me long after was not the image, but the feeling: the privilege of witnessing love in its most natural, unspoken form.