It was while looking through the window glass that I saw the crow. He was looking directly at me, and I knew he wanted his feed. I opened the window to put his food on an upturned pot which served as his table, but he grew frightened with the swoosh of the window opening and flew away, not just to a tree or branch, but right across the old quarry that was behind my home, all across to what I knew were some buildings on the other side.
I didn’t wait to see him get there, but raced downstairs with a plan. I wondered how long it would take me to reach the same spot the crow had flown to.
I had to search for my driver; he wasn’t next to the car, but after a hurried and urgent call, he appeared. “Fast!” I yelled, and directed him out of the gate and down a side road, then taking a U turn, coming back and turning a left into a gully. He had to slow down as people were blocking the street everywhere.
“Where to, sir?” he asked, confused with my haste and inability to describe too well the destination I wanted to reach.
I told him where, and he slowed down, as dozens of young men and boys were flying kites in the field, down in the old quarry from where I could see the back of my home.
I looked up to where the crow should have been sitting, but didn’t find him there. I looked at my own window, but he wasn’t there, too, and then I looked down.
I realized there was a wounded bird that had hit one of the kite threads and maybe hurt his wing and fallen.
He was hobbling to safety.
The crow had not reached his destination, but I, though much slower, had!
As I turned back to my car, I thought of all those who try to achieve results by using shortcuts. Of those who cheat and copy during exams and later when their job asks them questions, they have no answers. Their certificates show they know, but their shortcuts of yore, reveal them clueless!
Wouldn’t it have been wiser to take the long circuitous route, which though tedious, would finally have got there?
I thought of others who use methods of intimidation and bullying to get things done, threats and fists, and finally watch petrified as police come to their door and handcuff them to jail. They all, like the crow, instead of using persuasion and discussion, thought they knew the best and fastest route.
I looked back and watched the poor fellow still hobbling away trying to avoid the callous, cruel, couldn’t-care-less feet of the youngsters in the field, and felt sorry for him.