With no particular attributes to define them as extraordinarily beautiful and being lucky enough not to be blessed with the omen of rarity (it makes us sit up and renders us awe struck), Pigeons could have been ignored or looked through. But their presence is so conspicuous that it sure cant be undermined. And every spare space at a certain height, which fails to serve the human purpose of comfort and reach, is bound to be their humble abode.
In the recent past I have had a little more time to relish daily interactions with pigeons and it has revealed a new side to their otherwise mundane presence, Humor and Fun.
A little background information might help.Last year I had saved a baby pigeon during a storm, who contrary to general myths, was well accepted by the mother the next day. My gesture was returned with immense love, so much so that generations of those pigeons are now our flatmates.
The balcony where first they humbly occupied the top of the cupboard, is now their favorite amusement park with of course absolute disregard for us. ( Though if I go back in time, we were the initial trespassers in their space, so perhaps its only fair. )
Earlier they stuck to being at least apparently out of reach, but now they rule the place, and hop around with such aplomb that the most royal of walks could be challenged.
Their most eagerly pursued routine is the one where they fly from the cupboard on to the fan. The fan obliges them by acting as a slow Merry-go-round, and when it doesn’t, they aggressively jump on it until it does. I bite my nails every time hoping the fan doesn’t give in to their combined heaviness, especially the fact that the air here seems to be really suiting their bellies.
Post this they hop onto the clothes line which makes music as they shake it, and make it rattle with the clothes pins. At times, when aware of my presence behind the door, they deliberatly park themselves on the washed towels hanging on the line and slowly turn around their necks to look at me with their red eyes.
At first glance they slowly turn back their necks and pretend to be unaware for a while. If I continue to stand, they peek at me again stealthily a few more times, each time making it less and less discreet. When certain that I might have some evil intentions they raise a claw, and that is the moment that defines it all. If I open the door they fly off to the opposite balcony and wait for me to go, if I don’t, they bless me and hop down on the tap.
Post tap the last step ofcourse is the most audacious one, where they take a brisk walk on the floor, sit for a few minutes on the tub and then feast on the wheat planted in the pot.
At times their friends also visit us, I guess word of mouth: The Generous Landlords who don’t just rent out space free of cost but also provide food!
However I like their presence. When I am alone, its nice to know that a little baby pigeon is staring hard from behind the window while the mother is casting looks of disapproval at my dishevelled lazy state. I enjoy it when I can hear their sounds against lonesome silence that is slowly becoming the norm of Urban Jungles. Above all I appreciate the fact that they seem happier and have more fun than many of us.