Tragedy

I was sitting indoors when the shouting of children and grown-ups reached me. Curiosity got the better of me and I went out onto the verandah. The sun was pouring its light over the world. Below, a group of people stood without shifting from the spot, all of them staring at one point. I saw the fat black thief of a cat. A little above it a pair of mynahs, their cries winding up into the sky, were flinging themselves at the thief like falcons. The cat had risen onto its hind legs and was trying to beat back the birds' attack.

The mynahs came within a hair of him and pulled away again. Three times they dared it. I was astonished. Then I looked at the cat more closely. Plainly the thought of running had not entered his head. Beneath his forepaw lay the mynahs' chick, newly out of the egg. Each time the cat took it into his mouth, the mynahs shot at his head like arrows.

The people, the small children as much as their parents, were absorbed in the spectacle. They were waiting to see how the thieving cat's labour and the pair of mynahs' agony would end. A small boy was laughing. A small girl was crying. Both of them at the wretchedness of the mynahs and their chick. The newborn chick, from the carrying and the mauling, was dead by now. The pair of mynahs attacked once more. The cat would not give up the living he had taken into his mouth, and the mynahs would not surrender to their own fate or their chick's. The cat watched his moment, bit down on the chick and ran. The mynahs struck the ground. And rose again into the air. The people watched without moving from the spot. So did I. Only the small boy and the small girl were exceptions. One was laughing and the other weeping. And from the hearts and the livers of the two mynahs, smoke was rising…