Of Birds and Words

Delhi is a bird sanctuary. No really, it IS. Why don't you visit sometime and open your ears a little bit. (Point to be noted: Your ears are only effective when you have to study. That is when all the outside noises begin to percolate as clearly as coffee decoction through a sieve. But more on coffee, later.) But to defend my attention span, this particular episode happened at 2 in the morning. When most of the world is asleep. (Except you, Al! :D)

So, at around 2, when I was having a rather weird nightmare about being stuck as the only human in a University of Mars because I misspelled an address on an application.....I heard a thud. And then flutter flutter flutter. And a whooosh.....and ggrrrrruuumble.

I woke up with a sense of panic (thinking that the dream's come true and I really AM off to another planet to study) and looked around. All was calm. I then tried to shut my eyes and re-imagine the sound to check if it was for real or not. Within a second, the sounds began. My first thought was - the robbers have finally managed to turn up in the balcony (this is my ultimate nightmare....I think I've mentioned before that while ordinary girls have fantasies of finding Romeo on their balconies, I spend half my fantasy time concocting schemes to thwart plans of robbers who wish to come the same way. Weird, I know. ) And then it struck me that I'm at an impossibly high floor for even acrobatic robbers to try and meet me.

So Robber theory flew out of the window.

And then I saw a harmless pigeon sitting prettily on the A/C and cleaning herself.

At 2 AM.

Which obsessively compulsive aerial creature cleans itself at 2 in the morning? I mean, don't they need sleep? These pigeons are as active as springs on antidepressants in the morning. Can they not just go to sleep quietly? And if they must clean their shimmery plume of mini-feathers, must they choose MY balcony alone? (I'm using 'they', because eventually, a party happens on the A/C with almost 3-4 pigeons fighting for space and having vigorous 'I'm-cleaner-than-thou' competitions. And yes, at 2 AM)

I tried to go back to sleep that night (it's been happening almost every second night....like the cosmos conspires to keep me up at unearthly hours. I mean, I'm this good child who goes to bed at, like, ten, if I can help it.) But the scraping and scratching and ruffling kept me up forever. Because you never know when a robber may use the pigeon as a decoy and just when I lower my guard, jump into the room through the balcony. Oh, impossibly high floor.

There goes my Robber-Theory No.2.

So anyway, my mood in the morning these days depends on birds. I've spotted some parrots, mynahs, crows and a suspicious looking bird that sounds like a jackdaw straight out of Blyton Books hovering around in my balcony early in the morning. I don't particularly mind them, as long as they keep the pigeons away. (These birds are rather anti-social. They never mingle with another kind, I've noticed.)

My neighbour, I realized, was not as obliging as I was regarding the pigeons. One afternoon, as I sat facing the window and writing something, I saw the window of the opposite building opening, a pistol sticking out and heard a gunshot. I ran all around home, warning people that a mad gunman was on the loose in the opposite building. And then I realized, it was a Diwali patakha gun. And was working very effectively on the pigeons as well...since they NEVER hang out on his balcony anymore.

So what do I do now? Adopt a parrot (but I'm against caging birds), buy myself a patakha gun (I'm against crackers as well) or just let them be (I'm against pigeonkind in general now.) I've finally found the perfect solution to everything.

November Rain.

Not the Guns N Roses song, no. (Of course, I wonder if I can play the song and terrorize the pigeons into insanity such that they never turn up on the balcony again. Ever. Little too mean, that would be.) I'm talking about November Showers. The rains that sweep winter in. The sole reason for the chills and foggy mornings. A perfect excuse to bundle yourself up in swathes of blankets and sleep like a log, pigeon or no pigeon, through the night.

Although, if you are the pigeon who comes to my balcony and are reading this blog (ha ha. One never ceases to hope), then can you please come at 7 in the morning as well? I'm...um...oversleeping and I could really use an alarm flock of birds.