“He is sarva-drk, or the overseer of all the actions of the internal and external potencies, and He is also described as upadrasta, the supreme advisor. Because he is the supreme advisor, He is above all the demigods who merely follow the direction of the supreme advisor.” -KB, Deliverance of Lord Siva (p.308)
The Witness Bird
(Note to reader: This article is in the first person, written by a pigeon)
A girl and her parents came to my home, tasty Delhi Donuts. After tasting they threw it to us, and I was very glad. My job is to strut about the parking lot and clean it with the other birds. Those donuts are so soft, especially the velvet crumb, so easy on my beak, and go down fast.
Then something not the usual happened. This is how life changed for me.
“Bird no arms.” said the girl, pointing at me.
She said it clearly. Tears welled in her little eyes, then again, “Ma! Bird no arms,” as if we birds not having arms was a greatness of injustice. Now, please believe: I know human insensitivity, a car running over my brother with broken wing. Not to speak of the Trapperman. So what humans say I don’t care for, but that little girl’s words hung in air like the Delhi’s fog. She gave voice to thoughts I never before dared to have…
I looked around at the humans who have arms. I looked at the birds, armless creatures, pecking pavement. I made my way into the sky, like a ghost! I did not come down. I flew badly, random, lost in thoughts: bare breasts and wings, but no arms or hands!
Okay, what you are thinking, maybe I know. We disadvantaged ones, well, we harbor some excuse and feel too much sorry for ourselves. New excuse lifetime after lifetime. Wealthy then poor, young then old, healthy then sick, never knowing why it is happening, never to know the destiny. When we will turn our head? Now I am pigeon. Last life was I beetle? Rat?
Same Branch, Same Tree
Where we are in my story? Can’t remember. You know humans call us ‘bird brains’? Well, now you know why! Oh, I remember now, if only I had arms! I decided to land and just ask other birds. Maybe they know.
“We have no arms like the humans. Do you know this?” I asked them. They have only blank stares and chirps. Why are some birds so dumb? The owner of this donut place calls a man when there are hatched too many of us. I am feeling a great strong sadness now. Trapperman came to the parking lot yesterday, put net to capture my brothers. They want flying pigeon practice at a shooting range. I am hiding in my tree. I am morose and hidden there. How can I go on, seeing how a bird’s life is spit upon? Then suddenly, someone I feel is near, watching me…
It so unusual, no bird is allowed by me in my own favorite tree, my own favorite branch. I was extremely sad about my flock trapped, and afraid, too. All taken away for target shoot. But I then I saw him. He looks like me. It could be mirror, his face so familiar. He is charming me. He is wearing the same grey feathers, but appearing more charming than any bird.
The witness bird was peaceful. I call him “witness” because it seemed like he watch me. Just perched, he calm and smiling. Birds do smile, but with eyes. If you are a bird then you know. From his very nice smile I felt strong love. My stress softened, my wings and feathers relaxed.
This is my story, how life changed.
“There are two birds sitting in the same tree. One of them is the ‘eating bird.’ He is fully engrossed with anxiety and moroseness as the enjoyer of the fruits of the tree. The other bird simply observes him. If in some way or other the first bird turns his face to his friend who is the Lord, and if he comes to know of His glories—at once the suffering bird becomes free from all anxieties.”
-Mundaka Upanisad (3.1.2), Svetasvatara Upanisad (4.7)
The Yamuna Express
Okay, where I was? Oh, I was flying in circles. I was looking for the little girl and her family who were so generous. They were in a rickshaw, so I landed near. Why not? Maybe they have more donut to throw me. Hot weather and thirsty, but I swallowed some big chunks. Hell came to visit me, for several minutes I just choking. I heaved and heaved that lump and my eyes bulged and I fell sideways. The little girl and her Mom panicked. They poured water on me, they even tried to pull food from my mouth. The little girl cried. Her Mum said,
“Poor bird! You nearly died. No more we eat Delhi Donuts!”
“I think this bird should go to the temple we visited in Vrndavana. There he would get pure Krishna prasadam,” said the father. They each nodded their heads, and I was very surprised. Humans seeming concerned about me, the pigeon?
I flew to my tree but my choked throat was dry and sore like never before. I was in my usual place, but head reeling. Then again I just know it! Someone is watching me! This time I did not hesitate, I turned fast to look right at him, still holding onto a piece of donut. Most birds usually steel food, but the witness bird did not want my velvet crumb. Unnatural! He only seemed to want me. Seeing his concern, I dropped that Delhi Donut. He only had eyes for me, and he was serious and sober. I was absolutely spooked! How he knows me so well? He is not real! Perhaps I am dreaming. I need water badly.
I flew to the river next to Delhi and drank deeply, but never forgetting that unnatural handsome bird. I splashed for a good while in the shallow. Then a breeze coming strong and I was born into the air as if nothing just to float. It was effortless, such a powerful lift and glide. I followed white herons, then swift fluorescent green parrots. I flew the length of the winding silver streak of Yamuna. From time to time I stopped and rested in a tree. I peck now at wild fruits in trees. I miss that unnatural bird. I left him for good back in Delhi?
But when I turned to look for him, I saw him again. I quickly asked, “You find me? Did you follow me?” He lowered his beak and looked at me carefully. I could not understand it. I never in my life met such a special bird like him, and he following me! I asked, “Sir, I can see that you are a very fine handsome bird. Now I have bathed in the Yamuna River which is sanctified and holy, and I am on my way to a holy place. I noticed you have only watched me eat. Are you not hungry?”
“I am fully satisfied to watch as you enjoy your food,” he answered.
“Then please inform me, what a fine looking bird such as you has to do with me? Why are you following me?”
His voice was low as thunder and full of confidence, “One may gradually become purified by baths in the Yamuna,” he said. “But if you follow the true path of your heart you will find devotees of God! I have been satisfied to see your enjoyment, but I am also unhappy to see your suffering. Wasn’t it Krishna who told the brahmana by the name of Srutadeva that His own personal four armed form is not as dear to Him as His devotees! Please go to find the devotees?”
I nodded in agreement, I only felt his love. Did he mention someone with four arms? By and by my long flight took me to a new atmosphere of spring air and misty sweet fragrances… Eventually I came to the English temple the family at Delhi Donuts wished for me to visit, and by the way, they were right about the food! I found prasadam.
The Big English Temple
Ah, prasadam! Kitri, rice and dahl spills from the human’s leaf plates every day, anywhere! If roti or puri falls to us then with our beaks we tear it to shreds. I am not fearful of these humans; they do not carry nets like the Trappermen. Their hands are in bead bags. Every day singing the Holy names of God, they are even louder than the native birds, the peacocks, parrots, mynah birds, etc. The food is pure vegetarian preparations of grains and vegetables offered to God on the temple’s altar and generously distributed.
Oh, the altar. No one has seen such a collection of fruits, flowers, leaves nicely arranged. Even I was lost in sight of it and never think of donuts! Oh, the beautiful face of Shyamsundar holding his flute! He has two beautiful blackish arms and His face is like the rising full moon. I have settled in a special tree near the temple entrance gate where all the Hare Krishna devotees walk through.
An Offense to Witness Bird
One day I am there in my tree, so many other birds not seeing me clutching an entire chapatti, so delicious and so fresh on my branch in the top of my tree. But day after day, again, I know somebody is behind me. Now witness bird at the temple? I was amazed and happy to see him again. He just cocked his head slightly, looking at me with entire chapati in claws and beak. I ignored him and pecking furiously at the bread. (Try eating a nice roti with no hands!)
Again I look around at him and there he again smiling! But I am disrespectful this time! “Hey don’t you eat? Are you sick or something?” I held out a little shred to him with my beak, but he showed no interest. His feathers were perfectly groomed and glistening in the afternoon light. I looked right into his eyes which were so soft and calm like my mother when I came out from egg. I was suddenly overwhelmed. I blurted out loudly,
“Who are you?” Tears came out of my eyes.
“Why, I am the witness bird. Have I not always sat by you, tree after tree? You and I are the same, my friend, but different, too.”
“I met you at Delhi Donuts! You follow me?” I said.
“Everywhere you go, no matter what kind of tree you sit in. Some call me ‘instinct’, some ‘intuition’. I am here to serve and guide every soul in every form of life.”
I felt awe. Then he said,
“I saw you steel that roti.”
“What you are saying? I not steeling roti!”
What an outrage! Is he not a bird like the rest of us? Don’t all birds steel food from each other? My wings flapped loudly. I circumambulate the temple dome countless times, angry, then returned to the tree.
“Pardon me, sir. You are not a bird, like me?” I asked him.
“I am always situated in transcendental satisfaction. I observe your various enjoyments,” then he whispered, “I am also aware of your sufferings. Please continue to stay with the devotees and meditate upon me in the two armed form of Shyamasundar.” And without as much as a beat of his wings he vanished.
Now I wonder. Why did I fail to speak to him as well as he had kindly spoken to me? Something very deep happening inside me, I am feeling so much sorry not to know him well, yet I feel mysterious joy. I am trembling and my tiny pebble heart is softened like the sugar-ghee in mysore pak, or jalebis, (if you like better.)
Lord has Four Arms
Next day: Prasadam hall was not open yet, so I waited near it in the eaves of the temple, next to the sound system. The verse they read from Srimad-Bhagavatam was clear,
“Thus being fixed one must render service unto the Supersoul situated in one’s own heart by His omnipotency. Because He is the Almighty Personality of Godhead, eternal and unlimited, He is the ultimate goal of life, and by worshipping Him one can end the cause of the conditioned state of existence.”
-Srimad-Bhagavatam 2.2.6
Who is that bird in my heart? He helped me. He sat down with me in my tree when my flock was killed, he sent the family who suggested I come here to this temple, he made me think of the Yamuna when I was dehydrated, he was with me in every tree from Delhi to Vrndavana Dham and then he told me to associate with devotees. He told me to think of the two-armed form of Shyamasundar. Sometimes I feel he never did left me. A greedy lowly creature! Here in atmosphere of spiritual life!
The Bhagavatam ( 2.2.8) further describes the Supersoul,
“Others conceive of the Personality of Godhead residing within the body in the region of the heart and measuring only eight inches, with four hands carrying a lotus, a wheel of a chariot, a conchshell and a club.”
I know now, my life is perfect although with no arms. With our two paltry hands, what can we hold onto if the Lord wants to take it away? And what he constantly supplies with His unlimited arms, what can we accept in two paltry hands?
I hope you did like my story? Don’t worry for me, lowly bodied. I am a special, privileged bird! I met the witness bird! He is in my tree and in my heart.
Source: https://www.dandavats.com/?p=119178
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