A Midnight Rescue Mission

Last evening, when I came home at around 22 hours in the evening, I found my sister looking out with a melancholy look outside the window. She pointed out to me a crow who was hanging on a nearby tree, one wing stuck upwards by a kite string and it hanging helplessly in the rain. It was a stormy day and the downpour was non-stop. I went out to do something about this. But I didn't know what or how.

So I went to a Bela, a old woman who lived downstairs, who is an "animal lover". 

"You're telling me at this time, man? Din me bolta to alag hota. Ab itni raat ko kya karneka?"

I reassured her that I was not asking her to climb the height. We went to the tree and saw the crow. The bird was surely traumatized. The rain had severely ruffled it's feathers and I imagine it was stuck in the same awful position for hours. I made sounds to agitate it and make sure it was alive. It was.

She suggested that I call the fire-brigade. So I tried to do that. They didn't receive my call, despite tens of attempts. Frustrating. Wonder what'd happen if we're in a real fire emergency.

Half and hour later, I called my friend Prathamesh, and asked him to help me rescue the bird in distress, wondering if it was still alive.

An ancient Macedonian coin, with a crow.

"In the rain?"

"Yup."

"Whilst getting wet?

"Yup."

"Let's go."

We went, and I took from home a pair of scissors to cut the string.

I first asked Bela to help us out, since I can't get myself to catch a crow. She refused. She had dogs and cats to feed, and a lot of work, she said. She gave us some sticks and a torch.

"Tum log jakar Masum ke idhar se ladder le ke jao."

So off we went, equipped with a ladder, a torch, a long stick and scissors.

And the rain started pouring bucketfuls. We were on a rescue mission, in the middle of a storm. The sky boomed and banged.

Prathamesh asked me if I was sure if I wanted to do this.

"Man, if I were stuck hanging on a tree, I would like to be helped."

He seemed very pleased at what I said. I climbed the ladder while he gave it support. I agitated the bird with the stick. It fluttered it's wings. Alive for now.

I tried, but failed to reach the string. Prathamesh tried too. The rain was intense and water fell in our eyes as we tried to look up.

After much trial and error, on the street, we saw another guy named Prathamesh (a.k.a Kadu), who is a lanky guy who is 6 feet 4 inches tall. We asked him to help us:

"BC, idhar aa, kawwa rescue kar rahe he...."

"Kya MC, jaldi me he me..."

"Abe BC. latka he, bus string katna he, bus..."

He came by with extreme reluctance. He began to climb.

Prathmesh: Upar chad. Hoze, light maar.

Kadu, who was up the ladder by now, had legs shaking. He wore glasses, so the rain was causing more visual problems for him.

Kadu:"Phat rahi he BC."

Much commotion ensued. The bird was at it's wit's end. The scissor just wouldn't reach the string.

We needed to use a knife. I waited there at the site, while both of them went to Bela's to get a knife. Five long minutes later, they arrived with what looked like a spear. A knife attached to a stick. Awesome. I took the stick and posed some hunter poses before handing it back to Prathamesh.

Bela has warned us against the bird falling, saying that if it's back broke, it was gone. But what were we to do? Kadu climbed up and after much direction, encouragement and swear words, managed to cut the string. The wing was freed from entanglement, but the crow didn't move.

"Is he still stuck?" I asked. No one gave an answer.

I took a stick and poked it, it crept inwards towards the trunk of the tree. I felt that if left in the rain, it might die, so I pushed the crow. He fell down gently, hitting two or three obstacles in between.

He got up on his feet and began running.

Picture that. A fucking crow awkwardly running in a storm away from three benign gentlemen, wings tightly closed. We stood there, motionless for a few seconds, confused.

The two guys, ran to Bela to ask her to catch the bird. She came, umbrella in hand, fretting and fuming.

"I had told you that don't let him fall."

I said nothing.

After a little chasing she caught the crow. She then picked up her umbrella in one hand, keeping the crow in another. The crow shrank, like a soft kabab in her hand.

"I should consider myself very brave. You, despite being young men, are scared to catch a crow."

"Look," I started, "I don't usually catch crows as part of my daily routine..."

She put the crow in a cage she had. Everyone was happy and relieved. And soaking.

I went home and asked my sister: "Saw that?"

"Saw all that," she said in a satisfied, happy and teasing tone. She was seeing everything from the houses window.

"Now go and bathe for the 50th time today..."

I did that.

The next day, Prathamesh told me that the crow was kept on the tree at dawn. After a few hours, it flew away.