The Raven's Claw - Part 1

This morning I chanced to notice a specimen of the Corvus Corax, or what we would usually call the common raven, a tad more closely than I had ever before. On the grille of the biggest window of my house, one will find kept a bird bath and a bird feeder. These invite the sparrows and pigeons to drink water and feed on grains; and the crows and ravens to take dips in the bath and create a racket in the process. So it was here that this magnificent bird was perched while I admired its rich black plumage and rather impressive beak, hidden behind the curtains and careful not to make any sudden movements. Our dude, in the meanwhile, took a couple of dips in the bath and flapped away to bully a pigeon.

An unkindness of ravens resides in the trees near my house and is usually found harrowing other birds, and even animals. They go out on these expeditions in ones or twos usually. It is grave trouble when the entire conspiracy goes out together. The sparrows steer clear of these monstrous birds as much as they can, especially when they lay eggs. A few years ago a pair of sparrows had made their nest in the nook of the parapet outside our kitchen. When the eggs were laid, the nasty ravens began circling the little birds and their nest. We would shoo them off whenever we could. In a couple of days, however, the brutes had gorged the poor sparrows' eggs mercilessly. No sparrow has made its nest here again ever since.

The ravens come and harass the pigeons when they feed on grains. They will do all they can to dirty the bath too, making the water rather undrinkable for others. One can almost see the vicious glee when the raven does something of this sort. I have also seen them, on occasions, pecking at the crows. That they fight among themselves just as often should now be obvious given the brief account of their persistent belligerence. The raven has a hoarse caw, worse than a crow's which sounds like it has got something stuck in its throat all the time.

Our resident cat - Leo - finds her instincts suddenly aroused when she spots a bird. It is her favourite pastime to glare at the birds that visit our window and plan out strategies to hunt them. She will sit and intently observe the pigeons and sparrows. The crows irritate her, and her interest in the raven is always from a distance. Since we are peace loving people, we keep the glass panes on the windows shut in order to avoid bloodshed of any sort. One afternoon, Leo's siesta was disturbed by the harsh cawing of a crow. It seemed to have gotten into some sort of argument with one of the ravens and was perhaps taking a time out session at the bird bath. Thoroughly irritated, Leo made her way to the window sill - stretching out regally as she did so - and drew out her claws. She took her stance, the way she does when she is about to charge at something, and aimed at the crow. The angry raven sitting on a tree right in front decided, at that very instant,  that it had had enough of this crow and it was time to set it right. The raven took flight and aimed at the crow. 

The crow at the window spotted Leo advancing towards it and panicked. In a second it turned around only to find a pugnacious raven aiming for its right wing. Stuck between a savage cat and a bellicose raven, the crow had less than a second to save its life. It darted left, took a cut downwards and flew off slyly just in the nick of time. In the meanwhile, Leo had pounced at the window and the raven had charged at the bird bath. To their great disappointment they would realise that they had missed the crow. To their greater shock, they came face to face without any prior anticipation. Leo shrieked wildly at the sight of the raven who had its wings spread out wide and looked dangerous. She reeled back with shock. Simultaneously, the raven was forced to attempt a mid-air halt at the sudden transformation of the crow into a militant cat. It let out a howl and made an emergency water landing. The next instant Leo was back on her bed whereas the raven had scooted off to find another bird to trouble. This was truly one of those occurrences that present a strong case for carrying a camera in shoot mode around all the time. Blown out of their wits, Leo and the raven were not seen near that window for a good amount of time after this incident.

~

Bleeding Love

Closed off from love, I didn't need the pain
Once or twice was enough and it was all in vain
Time starts to pass, before you know it you're frozen

But something happened for the very first time with you
My heart melted to the ground, found something true
And everyone's looking 'round, thinking I'm going crazy

But I don't care what they say, I'm in love with you
They try to pull me away but they don't know the truth
My heart's crippled by the vein that I keep on closing..

You cut me open and I

Keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love

I keep bleeding, I keep, keep bleeding love

Keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love..
You cut me open

And it's draining all of me
Oh, they find  it hard to believe
I'll be wearing these scars for everyone to see..
:'(

Five Run Away Together by Enid Blyton

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I read Five Run Away Together in when I was 11, I think. This is the only book, till date, that I must have read at least a dozen times. More than a decade later, I would still  go back to it with the same zest. The third book in the Famous Five series by Enid Blyton has a strange pull. It is the story of the Famous Five - Julian, Dick, George (Georgina), Ann and Timothy, the dog - where they are compelled by circumstances to abandon their home and seek refuge on an island while an obnoxious family of three live in their house under the pretext of being caretakers. The preparation for running away, gathering stock of all items necessary for survival in uncivilised surroundings a la Robinson Crusoe, if only he were forewarned, and finally the escape are described with natural flair which was Blyton's forte. What begins as an innocent escape from frustrating household staff unfolds into a thrilling adventure of a rather dangerous nature. Classified as a children's book, an adult would find himself equally engrossed in the book. One of the best out of the 21 in the series.

Piccadilly Jim by P.G. Wodehouse

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The master of wit and humour churns out a typical yet unique - I do not know how he does it - plot, yet again. From the beginning to the climax Piccadilly Jim will keep you engrossed, at times even make you bite your fingernails with its on the edge twists and turns. Wodehouse presents a farrago of characters crafted with such detail that while you're at it you may just reach out and touch them. It would be criminal to give out even the slightest hint of the story, but this one's a must read. Delight for Wodehouse fans, and a definite conversion into Wodehouse fans for those who haven't yet made acquaintance with the genius. Happy reading!

Aicha

When I first heard Aicha, I thought it was Arabic. On probing further (read listening on loop) I realised it was French. It's an Algerian song written by a Frenchman and sung (this version) by an Algerian *raï singer. Enjoy listening to this enchanting track!

Another slightly different, and translated, rendition of the same track by Outlandish. The one by Khaled, however, remains my favourite of the two.

* Raï is a form of folk music that originated in Algeria some 8 decades ago. It is a mix of Spanish, French, Arabic and African forms of music.

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Hello English

A few random pointers for the human race regarding the holy institution of language and its usage. 

• Adding an apostrophe ( ' ) after a word does not indicate its plurality. An apostrophe denotes possession. So it's DOs and Don'ts, not Do's and Don't's.
• No matter to how many you may be referring to, it is always etiquette. There is no word called etiquettes.
• Using unofficial short forms of words while chatting or communicating on social media may be acceptable and/or logical when it actually saves your time. However, Kewl, 5yne, Maah, 9ice, frenzzz etc. only denote your pigheadedness. (Yes, that's a word!)
• Correct pronunciation is important. Correct spellings are important. Grammar is bloody important.
• All of you are, but none of you is. Both of you all  is bullshit, as is all of you all.
• Criteria is the plural of criterion. Nobody has any idea what 'criterias' means folks.
• Sponsors sponsor events. Sponsoror is not a word.
• Reading Sidney Sheldon does not make you avid reader or even cool for that matter, neither does Mills & Boons. Let's not even get started about Chetan Bhagat's 'literature'.
• Wanton usage of 'like' and 'stuff' does not make up for your inadequate vocabulary.
• Using the F-word excessively certainly does not make up for your inadequate vocabulary.
• You have hair, not hairs. In fact your entire family, put together, has hair and not hairs.
• Usage of '-ing' words is incorrect 9/10 times. I am feeling good today should actually be I feel good today, for instance.
• An examiner gives an exam. An examinee takes an exam. So next time you should know better than to say, "I am going to give my exam."
• Kindly do not introduce yourself as "Myself, Honey Singh!". This is just not English.
• When one reads out Roman numerals, well here's how it goes: I is first, II is second, XI is eleventh and not one, two and eleven. This applies to all the numbers written thus. So now you know what it means, rather does not, when you write Ist, IInd, IIIrd and so forth.
• Don't translate blindly. For starters, there is no such thing as your good name or anybody's good name for that matter.  आपका 'शुभ' नाम केवल हिन्दी में होता है । 

~

Remembering Sir Wodehouse

There is only one cure for gray hair. It was invented by a Frenchman. It is called the guillotine.
~
P. G. Wodehouse 

St. Valentine's Day may mean whatever it does to people all over the world. 14th of February, however, is a significant date for me because it is the death anniversary of my favourite author, Sir Pelham Grenville Wodehouse. On this day in the year 1975 Sir Wodehouse breathed his last at the ripe age of 94. Had I had it my way, no age would be ripe enough for him to leave the world. If I am fortunate to meet the man's soul at the place where the departed rest in my after life I will definitely have a paean or two to sing for him. But I am not sure if I'd have the words to thank him for giving me the joy that he has, through his words. 

I was fifteen when I had my first encounter with Wodehouse. I remember, slowly grasping his unique style of narration and in no time getting hooked on to it. It is an affair that I am proud to have, and will continue to have for as long as I can read. And after that I will pester my grand children to read to me for as long as I can hear. I have sat in corridors and laughed all by myself till my sides threatened to split open clutching a Wodehouse book in my hand. In addition to his exemplary writing style, his exceptional sense of humour, the ingenious use of language, the intricate and shrewd plots and the sheer brilliance in execution is what makes Wodehouse par excellence. I have been swept off my feet umpteen times by the wondrous world that Wodehouse creates in his stories, as I believe is the case with his other readers too. Every book that he's written is a haven that one can fall back on to restore one's spirits. He played with his words as an artist would with his paint. As fate would have it, Wodehouse ascended to heaven - there can be no two thoughts about him going to heaven - on a day when the world celebrates love and happiness. Just what he gave to his readers throughout his life, and what his immortal words will continue to give to readers for generations to come.

~

One of those days when this song is all it is.

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"The only thing that interferes with my learning is my education. "

~

Albert Einstein


(Please click on the picture to view a larger image.)

 #StoryOfMyLife!

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MS

Well it's been a year, it doesn't surprise me!

This one goes out to commemorate the day I resumed writing after an inexplicable sabbatical of a period so long that I am not at all proud to admit. It was a strange concoction of a sudden rush of emotions and months of pent up feelings that led to the restoration of something that best defines me. I had created this blog, if I may say so, in the year 2009 because I had felt the need to express myself. The only way I thought I could do it best was by writing. Quite unfortunately I failed to honour my appointments with this blog and did not write a meaningful word for three full years until this day exactly an year ago. 

I drew my inspiration from my pets - Leo and Snow. My comeback posts were dedicated to my babies. It did not take me long to realise what I had given up for so long.  It is true that most of times we do not realise the true worth of something until it is not with us anymore. Unknowingly, I had been stifling my thoughts and impeding the reach of my mind. For the first time I told my parents and sister about this hobby of mine. They were pleasantly surprised, I was glad to note. The icing on the cake was the appreciation that came from my father. I have no words to express what I felt when he said he was proud of me. As it happens, when the heart is full your eyes overflow. So did mine.

Eventually, I shed my inhibitions and began to share my work. I received encouragement from those who read what I wrote. I thank each and every reader for strengthening my passion, and the will to go on. If not for you I would not be able to claim to have been an active blogger for an year now.  The blog is only a means though, it is the ability of penning down thoughts that is the cause of my jubilation.  I may actually never be able to thank my readers enough, but I hope they get the gist of my sentiments. Technically, now is the time for new year wishes here; I don't follow convention, do what my heart says because that's how I like it!

Cheers to the joy of writing!
~