A Crow’s Life

While attending a luncheon meet at a friend’s house, as part of a game we were asked to pick out an animal with which we identify ourselves. We were not surprised, as our host was well known for innovative games. We wondered what prank she was going to play on us. The game anyway turned out to be hilarious. But it triggered off a thought process and I started to search for the animal which can be my kindred spirit.

Though I do not desist from doing work, I am not a devoted or diligent worker like an ant. I consider myself a good mom, but I am definitely not a cow which is an epitome of motherhood .A peacock? Our neighbor from the seventh floor, with all her airs has better claims to be a strutting peacock than me.

I have nothing in common with the wise owl or the elephant which is famous for its memory. At this point I was awakened from my reverie by a crow perched on the cloth line in the next balcony. The crow seems to be having an uncanny knowledge of the feeding habits of the baby. Around this time everyday it positions itself at a vantage point near the balcony. When the mother throws pieces of bread or rotis, it dives to grab it, to the great delight of the baby and, in that split second when the baby’s attention is diverted, the mother is able to push down the food into the baby’s mouth.

The crow itself is a lesson in patience. It does not try to grab the food from the plate, but patiently waits for the child to finish her meal. It is not fed when it is hungry, only when the child is hungry. And then ….the realization hit me hard. Aren’t I too a crow, surviving on the morsels thrown at me, too weak to seize the opportunity and fly off with my grab? And I blame it on my clipped wings!

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