Mhaisal - a village, on the banks of the river Krishna, is in Sangli district of the western state of Maharashtra. Being on the boundary between Karnataka and Maharashtra, it is a confluence of cultures, languages and religions. Though the official language is Marathi, almost seventy percent of the population is bi-lingual. The highway to Bijapur and Belgaum, passes through the village. Agriculture is the main occupation, with sugar-cane, and grapes being the most important crops. Mhaisalkars are lovers of festivals, which are celebrated all year round with fervor and gaiety. (Map)
It is fortuitous that not only do I hail from Mhaisal, but chose, to spend my life here.


Monday, October 10, 2011

Of Aves and Humans

"Let's go to Kolhapur", Varsha, called me up and said. It was nearly five in the evening, and I would have to drive.The state of the road left much to be desired, and I, wanted to say "no", yet. I agreed. We left by six, and had just crossed Hathkanangle, when suddenly I saw something fluttering on the roadside, I pulled over, and Varsha went to see what it could be. It was an injured bird, with streaks of blood on its feathery coat. It had obviously been hit by a speeding vehicle. She tried catching it, but she couldn't hold on to it. I got a napkin from the car, and was able to hold it perilously. It was an immensely beautiful 'Black shouldered Kite'. Being a bird of prey, it had fierce talons and a hooked beak, and was in every mood to make maximum use of it's defense assets. I was driving, and Varsha had to hold it for over half an hour, till we reached Kolhapur, which ordeal, I must say, she bore bravely.

At Kolhapur, my friend Vinod Digrajkar and I, after a brief council, thought it best to consult some one who knew what the best course of action would be. We contacted Dr. Karnad, (who is a bird lover, and had rescued quite a few injured birds). He showed us how by covering its face, the bird becomes docile, he also examined it and declared that the injury to it's wings wasn't too serious, and the bird could recover in a couple of days, provided it could be fed.


We, went to the 'बुरूड गल्ली' (a lane, where bamboo products are available), and bought a biggish cage, and then bought some offal from the local mutton market. We returned to Mhaisal - and now the difficult task of feeding the bird began. We kept the offal in a small plate in the cage, and hoped that the bird smelling the food would eat it.

Early next morning, to our dismay we found that it had not, so much as, touched the food. We tried feeding it with forceps, but were successful only to a meager extent. It stubbornly held its beak shut, but would make every effort to grab my hand with it's tallons. Varsha was the butt of it's fury, and had to contend with a painful gash on her finger. I, was a little lucky with just a skirmish. After many failed attempts at feeding it, we contacted Dr. Vijay Tulajapurkar (who, though an oncologist by profession, is also a renowned ornithologist and nature photographer). He in turn contacted Pabrez Khan, at Sangli, who with his associates, have, the expertise to look after injured birds and animals. The next day we met them and handed over the bird to them. Pabrez was kind to keep me updated about the birds recovery. They not only managed to feed it but also took good care of it. 

Pabrez called me up just today, to inform me that the bird, was released and flew away with all it's glory. It, did not pause, to look back at it's recent abode, nor it's rescuers. When the blue skies beckoned it, it just flew away. Though, our guest for a couple of days, we, already looked upon it as family, and will miss it.



Strangely, a fortnight or so ago, I had a similar encounter, this time it was an injured man. It was nearly Eight PM, and I was returning to Mhaisal. The headlights of our car fell on a couple of vehicles, which had obviously crashed. One of the vehicles was perilously hanging over the balustrade of an under-construction bridge. As we stopped, we saw, a mangled bicycle near the crash. The crash had just happened and though the people in the vehicles were not injured, they were searching for the bicycle rider, who seemed to have disappeared. We too backed our car and searched the area with the car headlights, luckily we found the person, in a pool of blood, thrown almost ten to fifteen meters away from the crash. He was motionless and seemed dead. I, asked my driver, to turn the car,as he would have to be taken to Miraj. We then put him on the back seat. I, requested some of the by standers to get into my car, but they all looked at each other and backed out. Only Bandu Bubnale, who also hails from Mhaisal, assured me that he would follow me to the hospital on his motor-bike, and he really did so. On the way I called up the Civil hospital at Miraj and the Police, and informed them of the emergency. While on the way to the hospital, the patient on the back seat did not even stir, and we were almost sure that he had passed away. 
We reached the hospital and called for a stretcher, we were relieved to see some movement by the patient, who was alive after all. As the hospital staff took him in, we managed to fish out a small note-book from his shirt pocket. On examining the same, we saw a name and a phone number scribbled on it. By then the patient had regained partial consciousness, and had told the medics examining him, that his name was Pandurang Mali, and he hailed from Narwad, which is a few kilometers from Mhaisal. He again lapsed into delirium and then unconsciousness. The lady, whose number was scribbled in the note-book, happened to be his daughter. We informed her of the incident, she assured us that she and her brother would come to the hospital as soon as possible. 
The police arrived in a quarter of an hour, and conducted the preliminary inquiry. Bandu Bubnale, was present with the patient, we requested him to be there at the hospital, till his family turned up. A couple of hours later, I left for home, as there was no need for me to stay. 
I visited the hospital a couple of times, in the next few days, and was informed that the patient was in the critical care unit, but improving. Last I, heard a few days back, that he had been shifted to the recovery ward. He may have been discharged by now. 
The strangest thing though, is that neither the injured, nor his relatives cared to call me and tell me about his well being.

But isn't it true, what George Moon, a character in Somerset Maugham's inspiring short story, "The Back of Beyond", has to say on the subject? 

"Oh, my dear boy, one mustn't expect gratitude. It's a thing that no one has a right to. After all, you do good because it gives you pleasure. It's the purest form of happiness there is. To expect thanks for it is really asking too much. If you get it, well, it's like a bonus on shares on which you've already received a dividend; it's grand, but you mustn't look upon it as your due."


P.S. : Picture of flying "Black Shouldered Kite" is taken from
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Black-shouldered_Kite_%28Elanus_caeruleus%29_in_Hyderabad_W_IMG_4418.jpg

 

1 comment:

RANJIT SHINDE said...

muncutpAn amazing case study of people who care and people who don't. But as mentioned in the short story, the feeling of doing a good deed for others is more satisfying than the 'bonus' which at times is just a formality!
And ofcourse not to forget the many 'Nature Lovers and Conservers' that were part of this story!