I was not born in a tree. I was born in a cavity between two slabs of curing concrete, in the small accidental darkness where rainwater had once hesitated and then withdrawn. The sea was close enough for its salt to crust on the edges of metal rods. The traffic below was still learning its daily impatience. Above me, the sky was an unclaimed property, blue and excessive. When I first opened my eyes, the world was already vertical. We crows do not inherit nostalgia. We inherit edges. The city of Mumbai has always been a map of ledges to us, a layered grammar of cornices, balconies, water tanks, telephone wires, and parapets where heat gathers in the afternoon like a slow thought…
To read the full story and 19 other short stories in this series click on the links below:
This story is part of the book Unknown Companions, my second printed collection of short stories, bringing together twenty quiet encounters between well-known Indians and the animals who moved through their lives.
These stories do not revisit achievement. They turn toward the smaller presences history rarely records: a dog waiting at a doorway, a bird crossing a garden, a stray who appears at an unexpected hour. In such moments, reputation falls silent and a different kind of companionship becomes visible.
Rooted in real lives and shaped by the quiet crossings between humans and animals, this collection gathers the unnoticed companions who stood briefly beside lives that history remembers for other reasons.
If you have found something here that stayed with you, some of my other books (collection of short stories, novels, and more) are now available in print and digital editions. They gather many unique journeys, quieter questions, and stories that continue beyond this page.
Weekend Stories by Trishikh 
This is beautifully original and deeply evocative. The opening line is striking, and the perspective of the crow feels both poetic and profound. Your imagery—“a map of ledges” and “a layered grammar of cornices”—brings the city vividly to life.
There’s a quiet power in how you shift focus from human achievement to unnoticed companionship. Subtle, reflective, and lingering—this is storytelling that stays with the reader.
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Dear Verma’ji,
Your reading always feels like a second life for the story. You notice not just what is written, but what is allowed to remain unsaid.
I am especially glad the crow’s perspective resonated with you. In many ways, this story was an attempt to step away from human centrality and let the city be observed by something that belongs to it just as deeply, yet is almost always overlooked. That “map of ledges” is perhaps the truest map Mumbai has, drawn not on paper but in instinct and survival.
Your words about “unnoticed companionship” stayed with me. That quiet coexistence, between what we build and what quietly adapts around it, is where this story found its voice.
As always, grateful for your thoughtful reading.
With kind regards,
Trishikh
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🙏👍
Aum Shanti
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Blessings and the peace of the universe to you and all around you.
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🙏🙌🏻
Aum Shanti
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Thank you so much.
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Oh to be a crow and have that point of view.
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That is so true. How amazing it would be to see the world through a bird’s eyes.
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This sounds amazing already.
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This is actually one of my most favourite short stories that I have ever written. Somehow it came out so different with so many layers.
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All your work has layers friends.
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Glad that readers like you can identify the layers. This makes writing these stories so worthwhile.
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