A Little Wounded Bird

I remember this well- often finding the funny aspect was the best way to restore her perspective on things. And usually there was something to giggle .

Friday 3rd March 2006
Of a Bird That Flew Off!
I feel horrible as though I did something really terribly bad. I feel so terrible and guilty.
Today when I came back home from the market I saw this really kutti (tiny) bird lying on its side, bang on my way. If I hadn’t noticed I’d have run over it. I saw that it was alive but struggling to live. So I picked it up, fondled it in my palms praying. Then I realised that there was something wrong with its left eye….half of it was red so I thought it couldn’t see. There were some thuluka pasangal (Muslim boys) playing outside. So I asked if one of them would hold the bird and come to hospital in Padmaraonagar. So they agreed. I handed the bird over to them brought the veggies up locked the house and ran down again. They said the guy who had agreed to come was scared so another one agreed to come. So we went to the veterinary hospital. Everybody there kept asking me what kind of bird it was and stuff like that. I of course didn’t know. When I took it inside to the doctor she examined it while it was still in my hand and said it was ok and that its eye was ok and then I told her how it was lying on its side. She tried to take it and it just flew and clung to my duppatta. Then I tried to take it in my palm and again it flew up over the tube light…oh so close to the fan. The doctor got real scared and asked someone to switch off the fan and light. Then this guy there stood on a chair and caught the bird. The poor thing was struggling in his hands and eh gave it to me. I didn’t want to hold it tight and crush its wings and feathers. So it flew off again this time to the windowsill. Stuck between the glass, the grill and this guy trying to catch her, the poor bird had a tough time. So I dunno, crazy me, I just opened the window and she flew out. I was feeling really guilty that I had ruined stuff and intervened unnecessarily in nature’s way and taken the bird to some strange place away from her kin and left her there.
I felt really guilty and talked to Amrita. She was like it’s not all that bad, at least you tried what you could and it is better than if the bird had died near home and also that the hospital wasn’t some alien land. I kinda felt a little better after that.
Just now I spoke to Amma and I feel much better. That was basically because I told her about how an venerable tamizh auntie who lives nearby gasped when she saw a proper thuluka payyan sitting behind me on the bike…full with jubba toppy and all. She was totally scandalised and was pointing out to her son and daughter thinking i didn’t see her. I said “Namskaram Maami” with utmost orthodoxy and carried on. Poor thing, she just didn’t know how to react. Damn funny to be scandalised by a little Muslim boy sitting behind me…especially when he is at least 10 years younger than me. Amma also found it hilarious.

Tuesday 21st February 2006
Les Mots (Words)!
“Tout les enfants sont des miroirs de mort” (All children are mirrors of death)-Jean Paul Sartre.
Is that true? Do children really reflect death? Maybe I should read about Nachiketa Dialogues with death and also Dialogues with the Dead by Vijllipsky or whoever. There is a lot to read.