Baghban
The other day ,I saw a sparrow on a lamp post that is visible from my bedroom window.It had just rained and the wet bird was vigorously shaking itself to dry itself off. Before long some wonderful childhood memories were rekindled.My home back in India is a very simple place.Cosy,warm and welcoming.We had a large backyard and a small courtyard. The trees attracted a lot of birds.
Inside the home, there were these huge photoframes of Gandhiji,Nehruji and my dadaji hanging on the wall.These days we dont get to see such photoframes in a home,but back then, when I was kid ,it was common. The frames were hung such that there was a space between it and wall.
For years together, sparrows would make nests in that space.Each year my Mom would say that she is not going to let them make a nest and each year her kind soul never allowed her to pull out the little twigs the birds had fetched with so much pain.
So much so,that when the birds were around we did not dare to use the fan for fear of hurting them
Then one day suddenly there would be twittering noises , more than the normal and we kids knew that Mrs Sparrow was a proud mom.That time coincided with our summer vacations.We eagerly watched the parents fetch food for the babies.I would want to climb up and see the babies ,but my Mom would tell me fearful stories that if I did so the parents would never return and the babies would starve to death.I never had the heart to risk that happening and would wait patiently.
Then one day little baby sparrows would be all over our house.On the tube lights , on the picture frames , just about everywhere. They would be unsteady and not wanting to venture out or try to fly , but the parents would be repeatedly pushing them.
This was the most stressful part for me.I would want them to just learn quickly and just fly ,lest the neighbours cat decided to have them for the lunch.I have always nursed a hatred for cats.I always saw them as sly ,heartless thieves!I would be following the babies wherever then went ,praying to God that he helps them. I would forget about food or play or TV.
And then , by the afternoon when I would have almost lost hope, the little babies would fly to the highest tree in my garden, I would jump with joy and bid them farewell.I never knew how the sparrows found our home each year, whether they were the same as previous year or if a sparrow is able to find his own child when it grows up.
All I knew is that each year ,the sparrows painstakingly fetched twigs for their nest,fetched food for their young ones ,watched over them only to see them one day, fly high into the sky never to return.
Our parents care for us all their lives.They bring us to this world,feed us and protect us. Give the best of education.And then one day we fly out too,leaving them with moist eyes.I remember when there was no power my mom used to stay up all night fanning us with a newspaper so we could sleep.My dad got a TV in our home when I told him that I do not like to go to a neighbours place to see my favourite cartoon"SPIDER MAN"
I am indebted to my parents.I wish I am able to bring up my kids just the way my parents brought me up.