After finishing the generous lunch from the family in the house in front of his usual chilling spot, Cawin sat in his favourite seat, the extending 2nd secondary branch below the V shaped diverging branch of the neem tree. Not long after, his long-term buddy arrived, occupying the vacant branch next to Cawin.

“Hi Crowley, finished your lunch? I just had mine now!”, started Cawin, with an audible squawk of satisfaction.

“Didn’t have much luck there mate, the human who usually serves up the food seems to be absent today”, said Crowley. He looked down, the continuous flying, coupled with the search in the afternoon heat should be surely suffocating.

Cawin continued: “There is still some food remaining here, the human family in that nest were quite generous with the offerings today. Honestly, I can’t believe why they had to make this much to give for us. The food tasted a bit different, but whatever, it was a satisfying meal in the end.”

Crowley, with a concerned look on his face, replied: “I don’t think you should be taking it for granted dude, the food’s also for the pigeon and dog gangs. It’s quite unfair to monopolize something that was being offered without a specific gang in mind, you know?”

“Always the softie, huh Crowley? I view it as a kind of a competition, you know? In which, the one who works to stay ahead survives, while the ones who try to make way and have a go at last might not have anything to go at all!”, smirked Cawin. Crowley’s left wing twitched. Anger and frustration boiled inside his mind, but he chose to restrain them.

“Cawin, do you remember the stories our parents used to tell, which were passed on from their parents, and so on?”, asked Crowley. “Nope, no clue. Have heard so many stories that your random question fails to fetch from my memory. Could you be more specific?”, replied Cawin, with his beak open and his head twisted in an obtuse angle.

“There were different kinds of crows in our gang you know? Back in the days, each of them had different characteristics, shapes, styles, etc. They all lived among other gangs together in an environment where food was abundant. There was no need of conflicts. The strong hunted the weak, but the weak didn’t fight among themselves, that’s how it went. Then, one fateful day, there was a massive rock from the sky-“

“Stop right there Crowley, I know that story. Our ancestors split up for survival, many of them managed to survive through cooperation, some of them were too much headstrong and paid the price with their life. Correct?”, Cawin ended the story, and waited for Crowley’s response.

“Yup”.

“So, what did you aim for by telling this? That we would also disappear from this world if we fail to co-exist with others?”, asked Cawin. “Listen dude, it’s not just about us. The branch you and I are sitting, is it going to stay intact tomorrow for sure? What about the tree that is holding these branches? Are you absolutely sure that this won’t be uprooted by some heavy wind or human force? And what about the rain? If it stops raining, do you think this tree or the greenery will continue to exist?”

“…”

“The humans are continuing to plant some insanely strong and tall trees, with no leaves or branches. The sparrow gangs have been sparsely spotted ever since those artificial trees increased. Will our gang be next? Will the human gang itself will perish after all these activities they are doing? Will the family - who offered the food that is in your stomach right now - disappear too? Hmm?”, Crowley continued to bombard Cawin with his insights. Cawin’s patience wore thin.

“Okay, okay, dude. I will think about this co-existence, calm down. Now, out with it! What is your real motive? What was the thing you actually wanted to convey? I never saw you agitated like this!”, he questioned Crowley.

Crowley replied: “Okay Cawin, the thing is simple. Next time when the family gives away food like that, call me, alright? Now I am even more hungry after all that rambling.”