Around a month ago, during the afternoon hours while tending flowers in my garden, when the sun was still at all his might, I noticed something unusual. Two crows were flying around with little twig on their beaks circling the canopy of the tall Rudrakshya Tree. They were building the nest. My first reaction was that of indifference but realizing that the sight of nest will probably look ugly from my living room I shooed them. Catching the cue Rocky too barked around frightening the birds away. For a while the tree was safe from the encroachers.
Next day they arrived again and again like selfish neighborhood watcher I chased them away. The routine continued for next few days. Finally being intelligent creature with high avian IQ they perhaps learned my office schedule and started building the nest unbeknownst to me during my absence. Slowly I started to notice the nest taking the shape. Its size grew with every passing day and before I could make any further futile attempt to stop its progress both crow moved into their new home. I too made truce with them; as long as they don’t spoil the yard with droppings their dwelling was fine with me.
One morning few days after this silent pact I was rudely awaken by the sound of Kow Kow that reverberated around. Upon looking at the nest I saw flock of crows fighting with each other. It seemed that some outsider males were trying to steal the nest. Its well known fact that whoever owns the nest gets the girl. The age old struggle for mating and perpetuating your gene applies everywhere. The fight was brutal and involved lots of pecking. After a while the outsiders were chased away and the nest was restored to its rightful builder. After this incident few more days passed by without any incident and I too lost interest. However while reading ridiculous news about Nepal bandha, from the terrace I noticed pearl shaped eggs on the Nest. The female was incubating her eggs while her partner was perched on the branch of nearby Avocado tree keeping watchful eye on trespassers.
After a terribly hot day that ensued, Kathmandu witnessed a small windstorm around the evening. I was having siesta when sound of slamming windows made me disinterestedly scout the surrounding. The ferocious wind was indeed menacing and threatening to uproot any thing that comes its way. For no apparent reason my eyes turned towards the nest. And what I saw was indeed poignant. The branch that nestled the nest was swaying dangerously and both the parents were holding to it with all their strength. Their grit and relentless effort against the sheer forces of nature to save the egg truly showcased their unconditional love for the unborn child. Finally even wind god yielded to their resolve and the weather calmed down leaving the nest and its habitant intact.
After few days that followed the storm, a joyous event in the nest grabbed my attention. The egg had hatched. Mother was busy tending new born while the proud father was foraging for worms in dry grass. The fledgling was pitch black and was raising its head tenderly. With new arrival even the environment seemed cheerful.
This Monday however while watching extended final coverage of French Open between Nadal and Dojokovic all of sudden the sound of clamor filled the air. The unexpected noise filled fear in my mind. I rushed to the window and yes my surmise was right, the child had died. And both the parent were lamenting at top of their voice. And they were joined by their fellow crows. Finally they lifted the baby’s carcass and dropped it under the Cycas tree. And without even turning back they left, all of them.
Today as I watch over the abandoned nest, the entire thing seems wrong. The emptiness is stark. And though I never approved the crows building the nest in first place, I have to admit I really miss them. And only one thing that comes to mind is those haunting lines from Wordsworth’s poem: “She lived unknown and very few could know when Lucy ceased to be; but she is in her grave, and oh, the difference to me”.
