Do we love birds? For their nature? their looks?. But for the few we rear for food or fun we are not familiar with any, though there are many around. We never care for them or their feelings towards us.
'The birds' by legendary Alfred Hitchcock gave us a totally different view of the birds, angry and aggressive.
In my childhood days they were more loving and caring. I still remember the small one in my hands, the one who landed in front of me to escape his enemy, the hens who were so close to me that I could take as many chicks I wanted. But as I grew up they too grew strangers. It continued till my son brought home an eagle with mutilated wings (clipped by someone to keep him captive?. He became so friendly that he rubbed his head on my feet, just like our dog. Along with the eagle, many of my old feathered friends reappeared in my mind.
So this story of an eagle I met on the roadside.
It was long back when I used to appear for job interviews.
The bird in front of me, with his is dagger like beak, was not angry or aggressive. His feathers though colourful lacked the shine all birds have.
He was not ready to fly off. Neither alert or agile. With a 'don't disturb me please' look, he appeared totally helpless.
It was early in the morning, one of those hottest of march mornings. The previous day and the past night were harrowing for me. Caught in the indecision regarding the interview postponed due to the death of a netha (political leader) and lack of transport at night I was literally on the road.
In and out of sleep entire night, I woke up early. It was then I became aware of his presence. The thing I noticed immediately was, that he looked no different from me in suffering.
He looked at me with a 'hope you.. won't mind my sitting here?'. Seeing, I did not, he continued combing his plumes using his dagger beak without much effect.
We were on one of the concrete benches on the road, in front of Mangalavanam (a bird sanctuary on the shore of the backwaters). Me on the seat of the bench on one end and he on the other end, on the back of the sofa like bench.
We were face to face. The street lights were still on. But the birds were all up and about. Some, the smaller ones, on the road gathering the leftovers of the previous night, the bigger ones fishing on the still waters of the lake. They brought to my mind the food and water I had with me.
I had decided to go home by the earliest bus available as there was nothing else to do. No use in taking the food back home. Why not offer the bird?.
He was shy and reluctant to accept it at first, though he looked familiar to such offers. So I kept my tiffin box containing fish and rice and it's lid filled with water on the bench and moved away towards the water front.
The food and water Improved his look and mood dramatically. He looked around in preparation for a take off.
In a few minutes he was ready and flew off to the waters, after giving me a look of thank you.
I started getting ready to go, but the bird returned within a minute. Perched on the back of the bench in the earlier position he looked at me for a few seconds, as if he is trying to tell me something and left for the waters again.
The bus stop was right across the road. I noticed a bus parked a bit away from the stop and decided to walk towards it.
While walking towards the bus a dog ran past me with a dead bird in his mouth. I was shoked, it looked just like my friend on the bench. His mate?. It's feathers were dull, half burned?
I remembered the loud party last night and the firework after wards. Not the loud ones, but the tall fire pots that illuminated the tree tops of Mangalavanam intermittently.
The bus was ready to move I crossed the road to it. It was not all crowded. I choose a window seat on the waters side. It started moving slowly in the direction of the concrete bench on which I had met my flying friend.
The bus stopped for one person to board . It was then I got the view of my friend. He was there on the same position with a fish in his beak. He showed no intention to eat it.
Was he waiting for some one to share it?.
The bus moved on.
