My favorite tree in the Bombay Port Trust garden at Colaba (popularly known as Sagar Upvan, established by eminent industrialist and staunch conservationist Sohrabji Godrej) was the "baubab” (baobab) which collapsed in the storm of August 5 this year. Of African origin, dominating the savanna landscape, the species was introduced in India by the Arabs and the Portuguese. The botanical name of the baobab is Adansonia digitata; the generic name was given to perpetuate the memory of the botanist Adanson and the specific epithet digitata bears reference to the palm-like digitate (divisions akin to a bird’s foot) leaves. Known for its huge size and reported record age of a couple of thousand years, the tree presents a paradox as its huge trunk is hollow, leading to many legends being attached to it.
In a French film it was shown that an African tribe which used to place their dead inside the hollow of the trunk objected when engineers wanted to fell the tree in order to have a straight alignment without curves for a newly laid highway. In India, legend has it that in earlier times dacoits used to hide inside the hollow trunk during daytime and commit robberies at night — hence the Gujarati name of the tree, "Chor Amlo,” or the tamarind tree of the robbers.
As I look out of my window I see an array of avians (birds) hovering over the Bombay Port Trust garden. Among cattle egrets, crows, kites, pigeons and parrots (sorry, there are no parrots in India: what we call parrots are in fact parakeets), the crow seems to be the shrewdest.
The baobab tree, of African origin, grows to a massive size
Photo: Wikipedia
In my old age, a crow has adopted me and is keeping a constant watch over me, peeping through one window or the other to check whether I am in good health, walking around or lying in bed with a health problem. If I am still asleep after sunrise, he gives me a wake-up call, cawing in a particular way to convey that it is morning and time for tea with biscuits. He employs the same cawing note if I am napping in the afternoon at tea time. My wife feels that he is doing this to get his share of biscuits, but I think that his motive is not selfish. He never enters our apartment like the pigeons and monkeys do. He always makes sure that there is an easy exit route as well, before stepping into any living quarters.
And, what’s more, he is a good "watch”-bird! When he sees a monkey near our residence, he invites his fellow crows and together they raise a cacophony to frighten the simian away. An altogether different solo note of cawing is produced on seeing a laborer scaling the scaffolding outside our apartment to alert us that a stranger is around. Finally, in favor of his intelligence, one could poison a tiger but not a crow.
The latest bird census has raised concern at the alarming rate at which some avian species are dwindling. However, our shrewd scavenging friend is thriving in a man-dominated environment using his brain power.
Dr V. M. MEHER-HOMJI
vispymeherhomji@gmail.com