your tiny feet…I can still hear them
running on the cold stone floors
of our old home
and those eyes …looking up to me
from every direction
I dont know when you come and go out of the house
I pine to spend time with you my baby
but i guess
you are a man now
make your own world
and leave me with the memories
of the glorius bygone days
A beautiful memory of my childhood that haunts me even now. My father has me up in his arms and we are on the terrace of our house. On the adjacent terrace is a huge cement slab projecting outwards.On that slab there are around 20 to 30 crows. One crow out of them appeared to be the boss. As and when that crow jumped here and there all the other crows paid attention to him .Soon the leader crow flew and the others waited for him. Soon he came back and appeared to tell something to the others. Then one by one the other crows flew here and there as if going on some errands, assigned to them by the leader.
It was a beautiful memory, a vivid picture my father painted, that I can visualise even today. Just went on to make me believe that even birds have a world of their own.
It was much later I came to know that a group of crows is called a ”murder”
Also what my dad told me as a child, was actually true. It was quite possible that the group of crows was actually having a conference, because they are known to be among the world’s most intelligent animals.
Lovely, isn’t it!