A youngling to save

I was out in the early morning on occasional errands when I saw, from the corner of my eye, a pack of dogs growling towards something. I was curious so I looked in that direction to see that they were prepared to turn into predators and feast on a young crow. My mind froze for a bit and recalled the images of the rat and bat that I couldn’t save. I parked my vehicle haphazardly and strode towards the pack. Two of them bared their teeth at me, I couldn’t be fazed. In a short span of time, I became we. Two passers-by came for the rescue of the youngling. It had tried to fly and fell on the road; I saw a nest above its head, atop a tree.

‘Don’t touch the bird, else the other crows will peck on it and kill it!’ – false

‘Don’t touch the bird; else the other crows will peck on you!’ – true

These were the few comments that I heard from the folks around at different points of my life. I’ve had a crow peck on my head once. It does hurt. By now, I realized that a hundred eyes were watching our every move. There was a murder of crows surrounding us from all possible directions.

One of the folks who came to help picked up a piece of broken asbestos sheet and tried to nudge the youngling climb on it. There was a stray lizard which climbed on him, I brushed it off. He was able to get the youngling climb on the sheet, and he intended to place the sheet in the footpath.

I thought; if the youngling is left on the footpath it’ll surely be ripped into pieces, and if it is left atop a wall then there’s a chance that the crows will peck it to death. I understand that crows won’t just kill their youngling because it fell out of the nest. So, that’s the chance I took. I took the asbestos sheet from him, and placed it carefully atop a steep wall.

At this moment, there was only so much I could do. I hope the youngling grows into an able crow.

Watching the rainfall

I was working in my room when I noticed the wind blowing strangely from the window. I ran to the balcony to see that the warm-white sky was being engulfed by the dark thunderous clouds. I swiftly climbed the staircase and went to the rooftop to watch the scene unfold.

Allow me to paint you a picture. The canvas is the sky. There are benign white clouds hovering mid-air, at the mercy of the wind. Out of nowhere, the dark grey clouds hijack the scenery and have now taken over the entire horizon as if it swallowed the sky. Like the freshly pressed dark-skinned grape juice timidly mixing with a jar of milk and ends up making the milk lose its identity, the dark clouds did the same with the visible sky. There was a solitary patch of sky which had yet to be taken over by the dark hues. And now, there was no patch in the sky that was distinguishable. The entire sky was a misty grey.

The clouds were rumbling, I was not able to pinpoint the direction. But the wind was getting excited. She was ushering the dried leaves and paper wrappers to swirl around her, and the clouds were willing to give a performance of their own. The water broke, and stray drops of rain started falling aimlessly. One of the drops was guided by the wind and landed on my phone camera. Soon, the wind whispered that the stray rain drops were merely testing the ground and asked me to look up. I saw streaks of raindrops rushing towards the bare Earth, as it started to rain cats and dogs. With each torrent of rainfall, the wind was howling from ear to ear. With each swirl of the wind, the clouds were clapping and roaring. An occasional lightning struck a man-made structure, and it went back as quickly as it descended upon the Earth. The wind carried with her sheets of rain and threw it on me; you can’t just be a spectator.

Before seeking refuge in my room, I stood in the open and tried to look straight at the overhead sky. The raindrops kissed me gently and intently. I mouthed my gratitude and went inside to write what I just wrote.