“You don’t find his kind of birds at the market — you find them in history books.”
With great pride and gratitude, I’m introducing one more powerful addition to our 2024 Aseel breeders — a bird I have chosen to name “Arnold.”
In this hobby, I’ve always believed that the eye knows what it’s looking for. Over the years, most of the birds I’ve selected have been picked through nothing more than a photo or a short video. I’ve trusted my instinct, and that instinct has rarely failed. Sometimes, a single look is enough — just a quick glance to catch the right posture, the attitude, the expression — and I know whether or not that bird belongs in my yard. That’s exactly how this journey began. This male came along with the Erakan female I recently introduced — a hen that was admired and praised by many. I want to take a moment here to thank everyone for the kind words about that female, because she truly deserves the recognition. And truthfully, during the process of dealing for the pair, my full attention was on her. The male was more of an add-on in my eyes, and while he looked good, I didn’t feel that spark, that urgency. I wasn’t chasing him the way I was chasing the hen.
But as fate would have it, when the pair finally arrived and I pulled this bird out of the cage, everything changed. It was as if a switch flipped. The moment I held him and looked at him up close, I felt something that I hadn’t expected at all. He wasn’t just “good” — he was far beyond what I had imagined. I was shocked at how close I had come to overlooking such a high-quality bird. In fact, I felt guilty for underestimating him. What I thought would be just a tall, heavy, calm-natured bird turned out to be a complete package — one that checked every box and still gave more. That moment reminded me why hands-on experience can never be replaced by photos or videos. Sometimes, a bird doesn’t show his soul until he’s standing in your hands.
This male has one of the most impressive physical builds I’ve ever seen. His wing buttons are beyond 18 — wide, tight, and symmetrical. His neck bones are thick and locked, the kind you only find in real old-style South Indian blood. The structure is bold — with great length, excellent width, and that rare combination of both height and girth. His chest is wide and full, rib cage rounded and deep, and he has that classic tight muscle binding that makes him feel like a trained athlete. Not a single part of his body is soft or loose. He’s all bone and muscle — built to perform, built to last.
The tail root is incredibly thick, the tail itself flows straight downward like a blade — not crooked, not loose. His wingspan is large and strong, and the color is exactly what I like — deep, masculine, and striking. But what impressed me most was how he feels in the hand. He stands tall and proud, but when you lift him, the true weight of his body hits you. That heaviness is not due to fat or bloating. It’s pure, tight-packed strength. It was a reminder that in Aseels, the real weight isn’t seen — it’s felt.
Abiram, who helped me acquire this bird, told me several times that this male would surprise me, and that he’d meet my expectations. I now understand what he meant. This bird didn’t just meet my expectations — he redefined them. He taught me to look deeper and reminded me that sometimes the bird you didn’t chase ends up being the one that changes everything.
I’ve always been very selective when it comes to key traits. For me, the face, the eyes, the comb, the shanks, and the color — these are non-negotiable. I’ve always preferred straight combs, pea combs, or a proper theekar. Initially, I had some reservations about this bird’s comb. It didn’t instantly appeal to me. But when I saw the thickness of it — how bold and full it was — I realized it was just as valuable for breeding as any other. The more I looked at him, the more I realized that the very thing I questioned could be a tool to improve the next generation.
This bird also comes with a known record — he wasn’t just admired for his looks. He was famous in certain circles for his hard-hitting ability, especially the kind of pressure kicks that leave a lasting impression. He was hand-picked for major fights, but during a trial match, he unfortunately lost one of his eyes. Even after that setback, he was acquired for breeding purposes by two different individuals, each paying a high price for him. That tells you how serious people were about his blood and potential. And now, he’s here, with me — not for the arena, but to build the future. I consider myself lucky to have secured him.
I named him “Arnold” not just for his muscular frame, but for the power and presence he brings into the yard. When he walks, you watch. When he stands, you admire. He doesn’t need to shout for attention — his body, his balance, his energy — they all speak for him.
Arnold is not just another addition. He’s a reminder of how greatness sometimes arrives quietly, without making noise. He’s a reflection of what we’ve built and a symbol of what we’re going to build next.
We welcome him with high hopes, and we move forward with strong hearts.
Arnold — Strength in Blood, Power in Silence.