Flight Downwards

Right from my childhood days, I was an animal lover, I loved pets and had tried my hand in tending all kinds of pet animals. I had a dog, whose accidental death some twenty five years ago, still makes me feel low. We had cats, tried to pet a tortoise, though unsuccessfully, had been maintaining an aquarium since 1995. Like a failed smoker, trying to quit his smoking habits, every time the fish die, i resolve to stop bringing new fishes and dispose off the tank, for the amount of time involved in maintaining the tank. I succeed in my effort, but only for few weeks and i end up buying new fishes again. The shopkeeper grinningly said last time that this was a hobby that you cannot leave halfway.

So last week when a pair of pigeons, made the empty flowerpot near my window, their home, I was not going to shoo them away. My wife and kid too did not have any objection for these unlawful trespassers  Their unique sound sometimes irritated though.

One fine morning my wife broke out the good news, she said that the new residents were going to be parents. The female dove had laid an egg. I did not react much though. My kid and wife were visibly happy though. As days passed by the mother would sit over the egg all round the day, the father would do the job of bringing in food for the mother. Sometimes, I would see, that mother fly away for food, water etc and the father would do the job of the mother. How, nature has taught these animals to tend for, to care for their loved ones!!  Sometimes, to make their job a bit easy, i would throw pieces of bread near the flower pot so that they could eat it. But as i would go to do the noble deed, the pigeon would try to bit my hand thinking that i was going to hurt her.

Then on one another morning, my wife again broke the good news that the pigeon had broke open the shell of the egg and a baby pigeon was born!! Wow how happy we all were to see the new entrant in our extended neighborhood   It was soft, it had hairs all over and in no way looked like a pigeon. It was very weak and was all the day through covered under the wings of dutiful parents.

The pigeon was now about 10-15 days old and was looking quite healthy. The mother would now leave it alone for sometime and go away in hunt of food, water. It would carry back some portion of it for the baby though. The pigeon now was trying to use its wings. It was trying to explore the big world outside the flowerpot. The small flowerpot, which was of no use to us, was its home, its birthplace.

That Wednesday, on 24th of October, it was a closed holiday for us, being a Dassehra, our festival of Shimolanghan, where, during olden ages, the farmers would sharpen their swords and join the armies and set out for expeditions, on this very day.  I had no expedition to carry, so i was laying on the bed, anyways it was just around 7.00 am in the morning, and almost in a haste, my wife ran from the kitchen and came to me and woke me up and told me to run down on the ground floor, the baby pigeon had fell down!!!  It tried to fly that day,  may be it was too much confident, may be it was too early for him to make such a daring attempt, the flight from second floor flower pot into the high skies only ended the poor soul crash landing into the hard concrete floor. I ran down, to help the poor bird, but, it was not such a good scene to witness, the bird was almost breathing its last breath by the time i reached, very hardly did it moved his neck, i sat down, tried to pick it up to see that its body was almost dead, and had no hopes of surviving. My wife was watching all the scene from the window.  I shook my head in pessimism, she understood, i walked back to my house, it was a very bad start to the festival that morning.  The parents of the dove were restless that day, at around 8.00 am both the pigeons almost entered my living room, it sat on the window grills and looked at me with hope, as if they were urging me to do something, they were perhaps hoping against the hope, but, by now, the little bird had already left them and flew miles and miles away from them, never to return back. I almost muttered to them, sorry guys, there is nothing much left to do. The birds flew away. Again went near that flowerpot.  That whole the both the pigeons made many strange sounds.  That morning we all were sad. I felt very bad, to say the least.

How may times, do we see dead birds, animals, lying on the streets, never did i feel that sort of closeness, that i felt with this little Bird. May be because, i witnessed its birth, a kind of unknown relation, a bonding had developed.  No,  I did not even ever touch it, fed it, but still it managed to become part of our family.  The next day,  I removed the flower pot from the place, so that the pigeons, may not repeat their earlier mistake again.

Four five days have passed, but, the incident has hurt me deeply, today, after grueling day’s chores, i returned from Pune and slept, but suddenly, I happened to remember the poor little bird and i almost lost my sleep, only to end up scribbling this piece of article.

RIP the unnamed little dove, god bless your soul.

3 thoughts on “Flight Downwards

  1. jeffssong

    I’ve had many pets and have had dogs die in my arms; me looking in their face. One was a most intelligent dog, I could see his sorrow at his going, then the final surprise on his face – just one moment to occur, one of many in my life.

    I think you get attached to anything living that you touch. In some ways you are ‘attached’ a quantum level – just by touching them, or beholding them, holding them dear – thinking about ‘them’, such as this little bird – gives it new life for awhile in your mind, one for you to consider . . .

    and I think every time you think of that it becomes alive once more, or a portion of its spirit – or potential for spirit being – becomes alive. At least in your mind if nowhere else, for you to behold.

    I feel your sorrow. I often keep a memento of a ‘pet’ – an in the case of a bird, I think I would have chosen a feather.

    Just to remind me of him – and keep him alive in my memory for some time.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s