BENGALURU: I have never been a fan of crows. It all began with a traumatic experience during a Fancy Dress competition in LKG. It’s the only Fancy Dress I have taken part in, but the scars sting when I toss in bed to this day. My parents held discussions, drew out rough sketches, and finally zeroed in on what I would go as. A crow.
I was made to wear a black full shirt and trousers, and a gigantic beak was attached to my face. I was also given wings to clip on both arms. I was excited about the entire exercise, and frantically pranced about mouthing my lines - ‘Caw, caw - I am a thirsty crow’.
Standup comedians use this phrase - ‘bomb’ - when they tank on stage. I was going to bomb for the first time in my life. I reached the school and the excitement flew out of my body like bats from a cave. I was surrounded by astronauts, cricketers, princesses and robots. Compared to them, I was just a crow – mundane, common, annoying. I forgot my lines and my act; the thirsty crow became the fumbling crow. I didn’t win any prize that night, but I developed a general dislike for crows.
My family never had any pets - it was seen as something for the rich. But we were generally friendly to animals. A white dog named Babula was frequently fed. My sister brought over sick kitten from her school. Cows were cuddled and monkeys were given fruits.
Crows were shown no such affection. Every afternoon, a little cooked rice would be placed on the balcony wall. The food was meant for crows, a tribute to our ancestors. And crows never seemed exotic enough.
Crows do not have the sweet voice of the cuckoo - that has been idolised and fetishised in countless Indian imaginations of love. A crow is not pretty like a dove - it does not stand for world peace. A crow is not a parrot - it cannot ‘speak’ to you. A crow is neither a beautiful swan, nor is it a regal eagle. It is not cute like a sparrow, nor does it have the awe-inspiring beauty of a peacock. In many ways, a crow is just a crow. When RK Laxman used to speak about his obsession with crows, I failed to see what he saw in them.
But my opinion of crows changed when I visited the Nandankanan zoo. In this zoo, were animals and birds. Who were brought from far-off places and placed in zoos for children to gawk at. There were peacocks and swans and hornbills - but the creatures that made the most noise were the crows!
They weren’t cage - they created a ruckus from the trees above. They were flying about freely - swooping down and snatching food from visitors.
It was then that it struck me. Crows have that one quality that humans do - adaptability. They can eat anything - from fresh fruits to Bengali sweets to rotting flesh. They can live anywhere - from dense jungles to high-rise buildings. They may be considered a sign of death - but crows are truly an example of life surviving.
Amidst globalisation, the crows have well and truly survived. Perhaps the story of the ‘thirsty crow’ was an allegory to the way crows lead their lives. I now have respect for crows, but I still haven’t forgiven my parents for that costume! The author is a writer and comedian.