Well almost.
Yesterday, while we were on our pseudo-run to the library (I am making it sound like a regular occurrence, it isn't), we interrupted a food chain. We began by spotting a little bird (I think xalika/sparrow) that looked like it was limping. When we stopped to check if it was ok, it jumped on to the pavement/sidewalk from under a parked car and just stood there.
Almost instantly, a hawk swooped down, perched on a little fence and began to stare at the xalika. It looked like it was ready for some little bird-dinner. As we debated whether to interfere in the natural food chain or not, our nosy habits (read love of animals) kicked in. We inched closer to the xalika, which just remained rooted to its spot, with a dazed look on its face.
As the minutes passed and none of us moved, the hawk probably realized that it had been trumped by bigger predators and had to say goodbye to dinner for now. As it flew away, I kept talking to the xalika in Asamiya, trying to coax it out of its stupor. All of a sudden, it flew straight onto a perch above a door looking pretty healthy. It seemed safe and we knew that we could be on our way :)
The part below cost money.
Today, the weather was almost perfect, with a slight breeze and a warm sun. So, we decided to go out for dinner to a neighbourhood place. As we sat in the restaurant, Vintage's outdoor space, I looked around at the flower baskets and thought about how nice it was to be in this idyllic space.
And about how much we are losing out in India in the quest for the good stuff. A friend recently told me that in the bigger Indian cities nowadays, one hardly gets to see xalikas. That makes me really sad because we grew up with xalikas and paros (pigeons) and trees.
As we hanker for the bigger cars and fancy clothes and
accessories, we destroy our hills, our forests and our wildlife. The xalikas and the hawks go with it. As Ma said the other day, only the kauris (crows) remain.
Maybe that's the only thing we deserve. Scavengers.
