I watched him all these years with out blinking my eyes. I was expecting him to move away so that I could fly in and collect my share of corns from the fields. But I am afraid of him. I am afraid that he will hit me with the stick in his hand. He seemed so purposeful. He seemed so sharp. I can’t fool him. Can’t really sneak past him to gather some ears of corn.
I waited this long. I waited so long. But he seems to be so adamant. He doesn’t want me to stray into his fields. I know I can beat him with my patience. In fact the wise ones say that patience is a winning virtue. I waited, for him to blink. I waited, for him to tire. I waited for him to err. And I know I will win at last because I have patience. I have stability and ability to understand the virtues of waiting.
I have proved my metal on my home grounds. I have beaten all those strong and fast ravens. I remember being made the head of the raven community. I made it to the top with my agility and knowledge about the home field. I knew which field to go to have corn. I knew which tree had the plumiest plums. I knew when to get in and when to get out of fields with out being caught. With out having to lose any feather or wing. And I ate and grew.
Now, I am out of my comfort zone. I am out of my territory. These lands don’t know me. I am stranger to these fields. And I have competition here. Competition for those last ears of corn. Wise men told me to watch out for these people who stand all day long, all night long at these fields with long sticks. They have huge eyes. I bet they can see things clearer. They have those loose dresses. I bet they hide that muscular body. They may move faster, their blow can be real fatal. It’s wise to wait.
I saw a young raven closing in to the same tree. A new kid in the block? I haven’t seen him before. He looked lean. Looked little sharp. But I bet he lacks the experience. I bet he lack the virtue of patience. These blocks never last. They are immature.
After being closing in my tree, he went back high, circled the field. Came back onto my tree. I told him to be quieter. I know his dim-witted act would have made the guy in the field more aware of our presence. Now his eyes will not blink. He will hold the stick tighter. Ah! this young fool caused so harm!
I gave the new block, who now settled next to me on the same branch, a look. I talked down to him, to put him in place. To let him know clearly that I run the show here. I told him that wise thing to do is to wait. He gave a glance. And he leaped forward, with all his might, with wild wing swings towards the field. I shouted at him, to stop. Its suicide. I ordered him to come back. But to vain. I knew I am going to witness him die. Witness the reason why I am taught to wait. He is gonna realize how small is he in front of the person at the field. I might witness the field-keepers stick breaking this young block’s skull.
I held my breath. Prayed for his soul already.
The young raven flew past the person at the field, kissed the ground, gathered the sweet, ripe corn ears from the fields and flew higher leaving the field with his pricey catch. I couldn’t believe my eyes. To see the lean, young, un-experienced raven beating the strong person at the fields is so stupendous. He outsmarted me. He proved me wrong.
I am playing the game so obvious way. I was asked to play this way. I gotta wait. I gotta wait till the person at the fields errs. I thought the young raven is nothing but lucky to be alive after that flight of foolishness.
I am wise. I have experience. I will wait. But how long?
I am the raven in you. I am the raven in us.
They call this young raven “abhinav bindra”
He made the person with stick at the field a mere Scarecrow. He showed how easy is it to gather those sweet corns if we believe in ourselves. How will the experience help when the game is new?
Today we old ravens, the so-called “wise raven” still stand by with the virtue of patience, waiting for the person at the field to err.
We end up waiting.
Let’s take a cue from the young raven. Let’s start believing in ourselves. Let’s know that if the field has corns, it’s for the early bird to catch. We might have to take those risks. Gone are the days of virtues of patience. To recognize an opportunity is like creating an opportunity by itself.
Field was my metaphor in here for Olympics. For you it could be life.
Scarecrow was my metaphor in here for those tough competitors. For you it could be those stumbling blocks in life.
If abhinav, the young raven can fly this high with the ears of corn and make us so proud. We old ravens, with all those experience can do wonders with our life too.
Think about it.
Here I salute, the young raven, “abhinav bindra”, for making me understand that the person at field was just a scarecrow.
He made me get past my fears.
Now I will fly, stronger, faster and will close in to those ears of corn which are waiting to be tasted.
I know I can do it too,
If I can, you can too.