QUEEN'S ROAD: I have a theory. I believe that the most unusual, inexplicable incidents and accidents happen on Sunday when skilled technicians, mechanics et al switch off their phones. And so it happened again on a rainy Sunday. While sorting the laundry on the terrace, distinctive Mynah shrieks drew my attention to the tallest branch of a tree. Just beyond the edge was a crow, dangling from a kite’s ‘manjah.’ The mynahs were mobbing it rather weakly because of another crow defending the prisoner. I do want to call the defender Mrs Crow since I could see her nest occupied with short beaks. She kept the vigil on, defending her unfortunate mate. The sorry family picture was enough to break my heart and 15 calls to local agencies and neighbours drew a blank.
Just before evening, a friend gave me a number. I called and my call seemingly interrupted a snake hunt carried out by a gentleman called Dilip in Banaswadi.
He promised to inspect the site of the crow’s misfortune after packing the snake out of dangers’ way. Thirty minutes later, the youngster was next to me and I was pointing at the tree. Brushing aside the doubts about failing light, he called the Fire Brigade.
He was told that all the vehicles of the nearest depot were busy clearing fallen trees. Would it be possible to attend to the case the next morning? While I shook my head, protesting silently, he promised the Fire Brigade official that he would be there by 7 am the next morning. He assured me that crows were hardy creatures and could survive such ordeals. Come morning and I found the crow very much alive and Dilip with the Fire Brigade guys at the base of the tree. It was his smart networking that galvanised officials to assist him.
A long bamboo with a sickle tied to its tip were deftly used to cut the crow loose.
It fell neatly into Dilip’s palms. As he was placing the crow in a carton to take him away for a day’s observation, I marvelled at his dedication. He talked passionately about ‘People for Animals,’ the group he worked for, the young volunteers and their demanding jobs. “Oh yes, the hardest part was convincing the parents about the choice of this profession, but watching our compassion they gave in eventually,” he laughingly explained. “We have the energy and the commitment to go on, but a little encouragement from others would help,” he grinned. Receiving a humble contribution from me, he handed over a receipt and promised to bring back the rehabilitated crow to the same tree soon.
If you want to help Dilip and other selfless volunteers and most importantly, animals and wild beings who have nobody to turn to, log on to www.peopleforanimalsbangalore.org/index.php. Volunteer your time and offer donations because a bit of compassion goes a long way.
The author teaches Psychology
