Helping the Helpless.

Today afternoon I was walking home for lunch.

That’s when I saw a crow with blood on its beak fly past me and sit on the window of an apartment above.
Soon, one more crow flew past.
As I wondered what was happening, I saw the source of its food. A calf lay injured on the road side. There was a gaping wound on its hind leg. A car must have hit it because it had bruises all over its leg. Crows were scavenging on its open wound. And it was too weak to move and had almost passed out in the pain.
I ran towards the calf to scare off the crows. But they were very adamant. The vendor on the road found this very amusing and was smiling at my pathetic efforts to ‘shoo’ away the predators.
I went around asking who ever came my way if they knew who the calf belonged to. Someone finally pointed out to a narrow street and said it belonged to the lady in the green building. I walked fast and knocked on the door, not wanting to waste another moment, for the wound was getting bigger as the number of crows kept increasing.
"Who is it?” , the lady seemed very angry. Maybe I disturbed her sleep.
“There is a calf in the next street. Is it yours?”
“No, why?”
“Well, its hind leg..."
“Is it hurt?"
“Yes..."
“Are crows scavenging on it?"
“Yes!"
“Ok. You go ahead. I will take care."
I felt like I had been slapped. Either the calf was hers. Or it was not. But she knew that it was hurt and in pain. And she was not bothered. I wished I had the guts to scream at her. I walked back to the calf. Only to scare away another bloody crow.

The calf was very tired and in pain. It looked at me with teary eyes. (Or I felt so). I called my mom for help. Our building was five minutes away. She said she will be there soon. Meanwhile, I stood on patting the calf trying to assure him that I'd be of some help. House flies were feasting on the wound.
Curious people started gathering and looked on. But their curiosity died the moment they learnt it was just a ‘calf’. However, no one offered to help.
Mom came with the first aid kid. True to a nurse!
Water.
Hydrogen peroxide.
Dettol.
Oinment.
Cotton.
She cleaned the wound and nursed it. Meanwhile I kept patting the calf trying to keep it calm. Someone alerted a boy to inform the owners that ‘someone’ was trying to do ‘something’ with their calf.
Meanwhile, the house flies watched on. The crows watched on. So did the people.
We came home hoping the calf would get well soon. I was full of anger and despair.
- At its owners for letting out such helpless souls on the streets, with no food or water. They fed on garbage and other waste from the roads. They were never cared for.
- At the person who hit the calf and dint bother to stop over and help it.
- At the people who just watched on. Who were of no help and yet laughed at others who tried to help.
- At me. For being a non-vegetarian.
I managed to finish my lunch and ran down the street to check on the calf.
It was already on its legs. Trying to walk. He was a fighter. And his quest for life was great.
(Or maybe he knew that if he dint walk soon, he would be on his way to the butchers'.)