The Crow

While waiting for the shuttle bus to the airport in Munich last week, I saw a large crow fly up and sit on the wings of a stone angel in the graveyard adjoining the bus stop. And then it kept cawing, loudly – it must have been cawing for a while, since what is usually white noise of city life suddenly became noticeable to me (despite the fact that the bus was delayed and I was increasingly concerned that I was going to reach the airport too late). 

A symbolic reminder as I wait for the shuttle bus to the airport at the stop near the Nordfriedhof in Munich (Oct 2018)

My sister keeps telling me about a large crow that hangs around her place and she is firmly convinced that it is the spirit of my father watching over my niece (he was quite fond of her). In Hinduism, the crow is supposed to be the link to our ancestors. So when I saw this bird in a graveyard cawing itself hoarse just prior to my departure to India, it did cross my mind whether this was something more than just a mere coincidence, albeit a slightly eerie one. 

I do not question my sister’s faith or belief, but, in my case, I would say that – when someone is constantly on your mind, I suppose it doesn’t take a lot of effort to link the most mundane coincidence of everyday life to something supernatural. But, even then, for a moment that day I wanted to believe the bird was the spirit of my father and I did whisper to myself: “Rest easy, father. I hold you in my prayers and I know you hold my hand every step of my way. For now, rest easy”

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