A Short Story of Sir K, A retired Sub-Judge. 

This post in particular shall be narrated by a Bird without much exaggeration. 

” … I am a Bird of  the genus Corvus, and commonly known as Crow. My story does not begin with the Biblical sentence – ” Once upon a time .. ” as my life has never been once-upon-a-time-ness of events. Neither I remember my precise date of birth nor my future. But, But… I remember the year 1961, when Sir. K  was killed. 

Sir  K used to be a renowned sub-Judge of an Eastern India province , I exactly do not recall the name of that precedency. However, the Sub-Judge office was under a Lieutenant-Governor’s jurisdiction. It was known for its independent and impartial authority. And Sir  K was a very pious man, a saint like person you may say. He wanted to call himself a Sarathi or a Charioteer  and never adjudicated any case by a dint of biasness, partiality or under coercion of the Empire. Apart from his deep faith in jurisprudence, natural justice or they say nemo iudex in causa sua he was known for his philanthropic work. Needless to mention one thing what he should have done, Sir K should have married. He regretted later but alas! it was too late. 

Sir K used to keep lots of birds in his big mansion. Different exotic variety of birds were kept. Pigeons , Dove, Andaman Crakes, Gulls, Gannets et. al. EXCEPT a Common Crow. I used to fly over the big one such Flight cages- large enclosures of stainless steel. Sometimes I used to eat the grains which were scattered outside of a cage. Mantu Mali , a gardener used to yell at me whenever I went near to the cage. He  pelted stones, bricks and twigs, however, I was saved everytime, by some unknown forces. I do not understand what did save me from such human anguish, and the same forces did not have mercy on Sir K. 

After retirement he used to spend his time studying thick books wrapped in yellow clothes. He had no relatives.  On every  Saturday , he affectionately offered me rice and say ” Oh! dear Crow come and have your abode at my little hut”. While Mantu Mali never liked my presence inside his mansion. To cut short, it was month of September, I heard loud altercations in his study room, I flew next to the window pan and found some five tall monster like human beings were arguing with Mr.K. even I found Mantu Mali was outside keeping a vigil of the place. 

It went on for an hour and they all went out banging his door and ending the words ” Repercussion.. Blacklash.. Dekh Leinge Saheb Aaapko”. !

I flew to the terrace of the flat roof to have a wide view. I saw Mantu Mali went straight to an old Anglia Ford Car, smiled graciously and kept some shining thing in his left pocket. What was it? I do not knew. Sir was trembling with fear, he was too old to experience such brouhaha affairs at this age. He kept chanting some sentence, repeatedly again and again closing his eyes. Next acted to behave normal drank a glass of water and suddenly his eyes fell on me.

” O Dear ! How lucky you are! You know why I did not accommodate you in those large enclosures? I know… because I want you to be my Witness in bad times..” Then He said something related to human mythology, which I did not understand and neither recall. 

I replied him , I saluted him, I paid my obeisance with one single  loud raspy signature call .. ” CAW… CAAAWW..” He smiled, and said ” Go Fly High, Do not come here, my Love.. Bad People Around they all want me to …. “

Suddenly a piece of stone touched my soft  feather, I departed and took my wings.  Again I saw it his Mantu Mali carrying a glass of Orange colored juice and one hand and catapult in other. 

What a Comedy, No I say What a Sarcasm, I remember human beings say this ” Hitting two Birds in One Stone “!

That night, Sir was killed.  I heard people gossiping ” O.. That old man was a habitual drunkard.. !” Mantu could not stop incessant tears of joys and said, ” Saheeb, Saheeb ! Why?

How often.. 

..often I told him to get marry… But … ” he continued 

“.. But He used to visit that Prohibited place…”

They nodded their head and said , ” Shame! Shame”.

Newspaper published ” An old Man found dead under compromising position.” 

Doctor said ” Over Dose of Intoxicating Substance”. 

They Screamed in unison ” A Blot! A Blot!” 

I saw that anglia Ford Car at the gate. Same persons appeared in white dress carrying flowers, fruits in hand. 

10 years thus passed. 

In 1972 a Hotel was constructed on that site, dismantling the Mansion. 

Sometimes, I sit on the roof-top of that hotel, some times on the Iron Large Gate and see Mantu, who is no more a Gardener, he wears suit, shoes, and is called ” Manager Saheeb” by guests. 

And, He never drives me away from this hotel, he says I am a lucky crow, Am I?

Neither I grown older, Nor any of my wings weakened with time. It appears to me sometime I am Lucky . It appears to me sometimes I am carrying  HIS VOICE, MY MASTER’s Voice  inside. ” Love! Fly High Bad People Around.. ” 

” Fly High”

” Yes Master! I shall” 

The story of Crow comes to a hiatus here. 

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