THE THIRSTY CROW - what we didn’t know

Once upon a time, there was a crow. Simple minded, he was a regular fella. While there was not much wrong with his life, it did become a little dull. Nothing spectacular happened to him! He looked around and everywhere he could see everyone have a better life. The sparrows had such a sweet chirp, the parrots looked so beautiful, the eagles flew high, it seemed rather unfair. How come everyone had it so good and his life sucked!

It had been a particularly hot summer and monsoon was over due. The bird community had been increasingly worried about the lack of water. On one such hot day as he flew back to his favourite tree, he over-heard a feverish discussion between the sparrows and parrots. “It’s a great opportunity. Why don’t we wait for the rains and allow for the pitcher to fill up. That way there will be water for all of us.” The crow was puzzled, but as he listened in, he began to understand. 

A traveler had left a pitcher with barely any water before resuming his travels. The birds had decided that instead of knocking off the pitcher and drinking only the few drops in it, they will wait for the rains to fill it up and drink the water together. It had been a very dry few days and all of them had been surviving on few drops available here and there. 

As the crow heard the birds discussing and deciding, he felt a rage building up. Why hadn’t they asked him? Why wasn’t he spoken to? Agreed, they had not excluded him, but who did they think they were, assuming leadership in this way. He had to do something about it!

In a quiet moment, the crow decided to act. He picked up the pebbles around him one by one filling the pitcher almost up to it’s neck. There was barely any water left, and the crow had become thirstier with exertion. He drank up every drop of the scarce water that had risen because of the pebbles. 

The other birds had not realized what had happened. When it started drizzling, overjoyed, they assumed that water was collecting in the pitcher and they would have enough to last them for a few more days. But that was not meant to be. The dry land had soaked all the water in, the pitcher was full of pebbles so water could not be stored, and the birds were very angry. 

A happy community was now shocked at the betrayal with no one to blame. Angry and full of distrust, they began finger pointing at each other while the guilty crow sat quietly. There were some moments where he felt a little bad, maybe he shouldn’t have done what he did. But then he saw the other ‘luckier’ birds and was convinced that he had only taken what should have been his.

As the dry spell continued and rains refused to come, the bird community grew sullen and weaker and some started dying. By now they had a distant memory of life before the pitcher incident when happy chirping noises filled the air. They snapped at each other, tore nests down, frustrated and angry, not sure why and at whom.

Unfortunately, I don’t know how it ends. I wish that it rains. I wish the birds dance together with joy. I wish they forget what had happened. I wish the crow understands that no enemy can hurt us more than the one we breed in our hearts.