Cuckoo in crows’ world

A pair of ravens give birth to an unlikely child. Radhika D Shyam brings a tale of acceptance

Among a row of Gulmohar trees, resided a pair of crows in a nest. The female crow had just laid four eggs, which lay cradled snugly in their cosy nest. The couple flew to a branch nearby to ‘crow’ in celebration. After a while, MaCrow flew back to the nest and let out a shriek to attract PaCrow. He flew to her in a hurried-worried manner. She drew his attention to the eggs — there were five and not four!

They wondered if they had erred in counting. The confusion was soon forgotten and MaCrow settled herself comfortably on the eggs to hatch them. When the first rays of the sun cracked through the darkness of the sky, MaCrow felt the eggs cracking under her. She nudged PaCrow to wake up and they perched on the edge of the nest to welcome their babies. Soon the little birdies struggled out of the wet broken eggs and shook themselves dry. Thereafter they opened their little red mouths and tweeted noisily.

MaCrow spread her wings to protect them from the glare of the sun and the cool morning breeze. PaCrow set out to get food for his new family.

Time wore on and the little crows grew up under the care of their parents. However, one bird was of a smaller build than the others, MaCrow noticed. The couple took a closer look at the little one and found it was a cuckoo — not a crow. Cuckoos never build nests of their own and lay eggs in the nests of other birds — generally crows. That explained the aberration.

Crows are social birds and so, PaCrow and MaCrow treated this little cuckoo as their own child. The five kids grew up respecting the difference and loving their cuckoo sibling all the same.

The cuckoo, however, grew up feeling a little odd and inadequate. He didn’t quite relish dead rats that crows fed on. He felt small physically too. Moreover, whenever he tried to open his mouth to crow like his family members, he would hear only a squeaky thin sound unlike the deep husky impressive caw of the crow. So, the cuckoo stopped making any attempts at crowing.

Days passed, seasons changed; the cuckoo grew, and so did his inferiority complex. Soon enough he was a big cuckoo with an even bigger complex about being good for nothing. Then came spring — the season of blooming flowers, clear skies and chirping birds! Something stirred deep within the big cuckoo’s little heart. He badly felt the urge to express his happiness vocally, but wouldn’t dare.

Suddenly, one afternoon, the clouds gathered and it rained heavily. The wild wind shook the cluster of Gulmohar trees the family lived on. The flowers fell, forming orange carpets under. The crows started crowing excitedly. A flock of parrots flew over these trees making a big racket, sparrows chirped from the nearby jackfruit tree and a mynah or two could be heard in the distance too.

Instantly and irresistibly, our cuckoo burst into a song, “Ku-oo ku-oo”. It was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. His song went on and on, louder and louder, heard above the cacophony of the crows and suddenly the cuckoo and the crows noticed the difference in their voices. The crows fell into a silent hush. The cuckoo wouldn’t stop. He continued to sing clearly and musically as if making up for all those days of silence.

As the song went into a high alto, a flock of cuckoos came flying from far and joined in. The crows sat audience to the most wonderful chorus of “ku-oo ku-oo”. Midway through the song the cuckoos perched on the Gulmohar trees. When they finished, the crows cawed in unison as if breaking into applause. The cuckoos took a bow before leaving.

They beckoned and our hero followed them after bidding farewell to his foster parents, siblings, and friends. The crows were happy for him. They knew that cuckoos are nomadic by nature and were glad that their ‘brother’ had discovered his latent talent and would never feel low again.

(Radhika is a certified counsellor and children’s author)