A Happy Soul

Traditionally cooked food had been laid out on a rock. A rather large boulder actually. Fruits lay scattered around the plates of food. This was the scene on a small rocky hillock the sides of which housed scores of poor slum dwellers. Brick houses with small windows, narrow doors and tin roofs.

The priest had just completed his chants. He stood up, looked towards the sky and shouted 'Kaaa.... Kaaaa......' in his effort to call out to the crows around. The food had been laid out for them to eat. None came.The priest looked around hoping to spot a crow in the vicinity. There didn't seem to be any around at all. He walked around a steps further away and climbed on to the top of a fruit crate lying nearby. 'Kaaa.... Kaaaa......'  he shouted again in a deliberately gruff voice, trying to mimic the harsh sound of the bird. Turning around to another direction, he called out loudly yet again.

His left hand resting on his waist he raised his right arm to form a shade for his eyes with his palm and fingers, to keep out the glare from the afternoon sun and craned his neck backwards to look up. The people standing around seemed to do the same, all at once. Silence had descended on the group since the priest had started to call out to the crows. The common black birds that always seemed to be hovering around the place seemed to have disappeared altogether, as if they had all migrated suddenly to another far off location. The blue mid-summer sky was clear.

Five year old Arti had been clinging to Lata's saree. She had been crying, mostly because everyone around had been crying. The mourning had begun in the early hours of the morning. She thought it strange that people she knew and even strangers would walk up to her and pat her head in sympathy. Burying her head in Lata's saree had been comforting, even though Lata had been crying herself.

Arti slowly brought her head out from the pleats of Lata's saree and looked around. 'Kaaa.... Kaaaa......' the priest had been shouting. She looked up as Lata tearfully mumbled 'why aren't the crows coming to eat?'

'The Soul is very unhappy' the priest said ominously, his mouth taking on a downward turn in disapproval and disgust. 'it is a bad omen!'

All eyes seemed to turn to Lata and because she was holding young Arti, the child was included in their piercing , accusing gaze. Lata started to wail and let out loud sobs. Dramatically hugging and kissing Arti, she said ' I will always look after Arti. I will treat her like a princess. Arti will never want for anything.' This seemed to satisfy the people standing around, they knew Lata meant it.  Lata's love for Arti was never in doubt. They started to search the skies for the illusive crows again.

Arti had found it curious that the crows had not come even when they were being called. They were always flying around and did not hesitate to scoop down at the first sight of food. They always flew down to her when she called, when she had biscuit and bread crumbs to offer. Maybe they did not like the priest she thought. She did not like him either.

It was a while now. There were no crows in sight. This despite the people gathered around calling out too. Tired and exasperated, they began to shuffle on their feet. Some of them looked around for rocks to sit on, other leaned against the nearest wall. They had stopped crying. Tears dried up on peoples' cheeks, leaving their eyes swollen and red. This crow business was taking too long.

'kaa.... kaaa....' Arti's childish feeble voice called out to the crows. 'kaaa...kaaaa....' It made the people around smile. They looked at her affectionately. Lata looked down at the child, the gift she had received with love and smiled. Encouraged enough, Arti continued 'kaaaa kaaaa....'

Almost as if from nowhere, a solitary crow flew into sight and circled above a bit before settling on the wall behind the priest. Jerkily moving its neck and head and taking in the scene, it did not take long for the crow to notice the food lay for the taking nearby. A swift short flight and a few hops later, the crow was busy pecking at the food with vigour.

A collective sigh of relief sounded within the group. The soul was happy at last. Or at least it seemed to be satisfied at that moment.

The hillock top came back to life, activity was starting again. The family and well wishers could now go ahead with the funeral. Arti's mother's funeral. Namrata's funeral. She had died that morning. Her body lay on a sparse bamboo bedding with a garland placed around her neck and flowers strewn around it.

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Originally published in 2016