The story of a dove

Today I walked along the edges of the river. The cool breeze blew thru the thinning hair on my scalp. I walked and walked aimlessly, not noticing or appreciating the beauty that surrounds me, the beauty of life itself.

Suddenly, the flight of a single dove caught the attention of my eyes (Have I ever mentioned that it is this part of my body which supposedly sets me apart, for better or worse, from other male species of my race? Apparently, my eyelashes are a trait unforeseen in other Malaysian- Chinese men. However, I take this compliment, if it is that, with more than a mere pinch of salt, as I sincerely doubt the truth of this allegation and yet much to my chagrin, it has been leveled at me more than once! ).

I begin to wonder about the fate of this white feathered creature.

How can a single dove brave the dangers of this already perilous world? (Author's note: At the time of this posting, another terrorist attack has been recorded in Egypt in addition to the recent spate of attacks in the UK) And yet it does, perhaps even to a greater measure of success than a more ‘superior’ homo sapien like myself. Admiration feels my heart as I stand rooted to my spot and gaze at this feathery creature as it perch itself on the branch of an old tree, of what type I do not know. It is beauty and a symbol of innocent personified, yet untouched or blemished by the corruption of the modern world. (Author's note: A few days ago, an MPSJ team raided an area in Sunway City to catch stray dogs. These dogs were caught and dragged with such a violent and cruel manner that it saddened me so much. In my opinion, the raid, if needed to be carried out, could have been done with a lesser degree of force. I may be prejudiced, without doubt, as I’m a self professed lover of dogs and particularly one of the dogs caught in this raid that I have undertaken to care for since the days I was still with my ex-girlfriend, but, I still think it’s the cruel nature of men that these dogs, similarly with other animals, have taken to aggression to protect themselves from us).

Then…another dove flies down and places itself on the same branch as the earlier bird. The earlier bird doesn’t seem to mind this new bird’s presence. As a matter of fact, it seems that it has taken rather well to it. I’m guessing the earlier bird is a male and the latter is a female, for what reasons I have come to this conclusion I do not know. But, it’s much easier to deduce that the female bird has an injured wing. With a tinge of sorrow and sympathy, I head back home.

Since then, each day, I walk back through the same path to the same tree. The bird with the damaged wing remains on the tree, perhaps paralysed by its inability to fly. I feared that the end was near for the poor creature.

And yet a few months later, I still keep walking the same route and miraculously the female dove is still alive. More surprisingly, on top of the same branch now lay a nest. I feel curious. How could this have happened? Surely, the course of nature could not have spared the life of an injured dove that could not fend for itself?

I come back each day to watch, learn and probe this mystery. Soon, I got the answer I was looking for.

Each day the male dove would set off from the nest early at dawn armed with nothing but courage and perseverance. He would return at dusk, spent from toiling through adversity, with food and hope for his precious friend. He had given all hope for her and left nothing for himself. And yet, he must have been happy.

This lovely pair would remain love birds (quite literally meant) for a few more weeks yet.

Alas, one fine day, I noticed that the nest was empty. The female bird is no where to be seen. It returned shortly in the evening before the male dove returned. The wounded wing has mended itself and the dove has begun to fly again.

Each day, she flies off earlier than the day before and comes back much later. The nest is now almost constantly devoid of her presence. She is whole once again, healed and ready to take on the world.

This routine persists until one day she did not return at all. I took this for granted thinking that she would return again the next day.

The male dove must have thought the same thing. But, she never did return. Finally, I began to accept that she was gone for good. Sadly, I do not think the lovely male creature understood this. I wondered why she did not return. Did she find another companion? Was it simply time for her to try something new? Or was she captured by a hunter? Or worse still eaten by a cat?
Maybe the male dove wondered too. Now, I rarely see the male dove fly in liberation anymore. His wings are free but his soul is shackled and tied to the memories of old. He is chained to a nest built on past memories, doomed to wonder on its old glory.

(Author's Message: CS, I understand exactly how you feel. I EMPATHISE with you, but a remedy is a gift only you can give yourself)