“I don’t know what’s his problem and why he always stares at me…” sipping my hot coffee I was thinking out loud. It was a breezy afternoon when wind chimes and melodies of rustling leaves filled the lock-down silence and the autumn’s elegance was emanating through fresh eucalyptus fragrance, I was standing near my window, greedy to savor every bit of this divine presence. But before the spell of calmness could settle in, my unfortified mind was suddenly hijacked by the pair of eyes that had been on me, not sure, since how long and why. “Looks like he is trying to read me.” I preferred to believe that he is super intelligent rather than to be inclined to think otherwise. No, he cannot be possessed. What evil spirits got no better job to do than to keep an eye on me. I try to not be insinuated by the obvious beauty of this flock that has housed on trees in front of our house, instead to be more awake and alert and deduce their everyday actions and understand what planning and plotting is happening this time on those high branches. Caution is not paranoia. Initially it was just a cuppa time ‘fika’ moment to revitalize myself during the short breaks I took while working from home. But then I noticed that amidst those, ruffles and flutters, grunting and pecking, hops and head bobs there was some covert operation in progress. Nothing was random. And when the evil neighbor’s new gilt tray with fresh mango pickle fell on the car top, I was convinced that their mission was finally successful. Sure, those neighbors deserved that, no doubt. But why does he stare at me every day? Am I his next target? Unlike those new tenants, I am a vegan, animal lover. What beef has he got with me?
Although they stayed on the branches all day, their only nest was at our bathroom window which we had sealed it from inside with a plastic mesh so to not disturb our feathery friends. From inside I could only hear them grunt and simply imagine how their small world would be, there would be some eggs, might be the mama is now sitting on them, or continue to weave making their home even bigger and comfortable. But never did I get any sneaky glimpse of any egg or any squab.
Not for a moment can I believe that animals are lesser intelligent than humans. In fact, I believe the converse could be truer. It’s a proven fact that almost all animals can know if you are ill and can detect cancer with more than 85% accuracy. “Why do you need researchers to tell you that” my grandma would say. “Don’t you see, unlike us, they don’t need a language to understand others.” Well grandma, sad truth is, for us humans, sometimes even language is not enough. It was only when I read Mike Tyson’s autobiography, I became more fascinated by these avian daredevils. And when I researched more about them, I got to know that pigeons can sense time space reality! Scientist claim they still don't know which part of their brain is responsible for that. So, there are some questionable areas about them that we still do not know. Mystery is dangerous as you will never know what power it is hiding. It wasn’t karma who took the guise of pigeons to teach a lesson to those evil neighbors who emptied the bowl of water that the good Samaritans had placed for these birds. “The whole balcony floor is coated with pigeon poop” they would say. Meh! Tit for tat, we never see that in our balconies. These feathery fellas became karma. Now, should I fear this one who stares at me every day.
One day, I caught my sister sauntering near the window hiding something in her cotton bag. “He collects sticks and fibers for his nest” she said apologetically. “Not the delicate twiners or sapless twigs but this greedy fella goes directly for the long and strong stems that his small body could never uproot, especially the one that hangs from the trailer pot of Ceylon creepers placed on the parapet of our neighbor’s house”. Looking at the poor creature struggling all day pulling stems from that pot, my sister had placed few coconut shell fibers on our windowsill in order to help him with his responsibility. And that's where my mystery was solved…. He was guarding those fibers and that's why that look he gave me when I stood near the window "Lady... I am watching u... What business you got here.... Just get inside and let me collect my treasures.... Are you going inside or not...? that good lady kept some good ones this time…… What are you looking at? Don't you dare touch my treasure.... Ayyo, lady get inside already for peas sake...." I closed the window to let him pick his treasured fibers. He flapped happily and landed on our windowsill, he shuffled the fibers with his feet and meticulously picked his favorite ones. But still his obsession for a bigger stick did note fade and he was back at the trailer pot in no time to resume his pulling binge. Biting it, he would also jerk his whole body while he free falls holding the stem in his beak in an attempt to uproot it. There were times I had to warn the ones standing on ground about this fella and his circus for I feared he might pull the whole pot down on someone's head (remember, I had already witnessed their first crime, the red splash of pickle on the car top) . But thankfully he was not so strong, and I don't know when he would learn that fact and give up being so stubborn and stop this madness.
It was when our neighbor’s kids invited me to their terrace that I got a chance for the first time to see this nest from outside. But I still had to go to a restricted corner of the building to get a good shot. And handling these boys wasn’t that difficult, I just had to bribe them with a photo of a baby pigeon, if I could get one. Blinded by my eagerness and with no room for processing ‘danger’ in this opportunity, I jumped to a place between the two buildings. The kids ignored me and got engaged in the kite making, coupling its wings with anchors, gluing the strings with glass powder making sure its strong and sharp enough to cut their competitor’s threads. Balancing at the brink of the two canopies with my elbows resting on the balustrades of the two buildings, I managed to open my camera and quickly zoomed in. I was shocked to see that the nest wasn’t that big, there was room for only two. I opened my camera and zoomed in. I could see few pieces of eggshells entwined in cobwebs, sticks and sticks everywhere but no babies. Seriously how would he even get time to bring up a young one if he is so obsessed with only one thing –sticks. The boys didn’t get the photo, they opened their big mouth and I never got one more chance to see the younger ones. Were there any after all?
One sunny morning when I was opening my gate to park my scooty, a piece of eggshell fell on my hand. I looked up and I saw that mischievous fella looking at me as if proud of his attempt to annoy me.... But what did I see next? He turned around and he had this bright white tail. He turned again to make sure I was still looking at him, proudly displaying his distinctive bright feather again and again. Who are you? Since when have you been here? As I climbed my stairs halfway, I saw the rest of the adults flocking around branch after branch as if in celebration after knowing that the introduction they were waiting for had finally happened. But what's to say he belonged here. Is this new one their offspring?
I adjusted the lens of my camera again. He looks at me and bobs his head as if to say he's not ready to pose yet. And then he picks up a big stick... to show me the proof of his inheritance...... I took a deep sigh ... Like father like son.... this crazy obsession will never die...
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