Babbler's Tiny Tragedy

                                A Tiny Babbler  Tragedy

             I turned the corner of the park having served the local street dogs their evening snacks.

 Romeo the black one with yellow spots above his brows dogged my footsteps. Ahead a group of babblers  were in a state of very noisy agitation . Babblers are notoriously noisy birds, moving in groups of seven, known as  'satbhais' in Bengali.  During our morning teatime on the veranda, while the bulbuls, Indian robins and the sunbirds whistle sweetly from low branches, we watch the self important babblers hopping around amongst the bushes, adding unmusical sawing noises

 At least three families of babblers,behaving like our esteemed legislators during parliamentary debates, were creating a deafening amount of noise. Flying confusedly between the Hibiscus tree hanging over the lane and the Chandni plant in the Park , they were focussing on something below them on the lane. It was a fledgling , fallen from its trainee flight , flopping around on the ground  without a clue about what to do next. The babblers never appeared to me to be very clever birds but uncannily human in their foolishness. As now - numerous advice, suggestions, encouragements flew down over the baby's head. 

 This was a bad spot to be grounded being the favourite  shortcut  for the colony cars to reach the main road. Instinctively I bent down,hand outstretched to pick up the bird ,meaning to perch it on a branch near its excited community or on the park gateposts. Skittishly it fluttered away, spreading its tiny wings .  I sighed  'Silly birdling' and bent again. Romeo, curious, came from behind me to investigate.  Baby flapped off in a tantrum.
 Something swooped down, there was a breath of air, a deep brown flash almost not seen, and the movement near my feet was gone.A stunned pause amongst the babbler squabblings.
 Mrs Cheel, ancient kite resident on the street , high up on the topmost branch of  the Sisham tree,  
had observed the little drama. At the moment of human intervention, it was time for her to act . A clean snatch  and she soared up behind the branches of the tall trees in the park.
 The kite had a nest on the sisham to tend and a young one incessantly keening. 
Romeo looked puzzled and like the forever underdog he was, wagged to signify he was not to blame.