The guy often flies pretty close to the ground and I can often take clear pictures of him from my roof while he makes baby deliveries. He was rather pleased with his last post–It brought him quite a lot of fans, so he is posing for more.
If you notice, the picture is looking doen upon this flying beauty. It is because I am on my fourth story roof and he flying at third story level.
There is famous piece of poetry in Urdu that says, “Har shaakh pe Ullu baithe h, Anjam-e-Gulista kya hoga.” (Owls sit on each branch, I fear for the fate of my beautiful country–that it would turn into ruins).
I had assumed, considering owls as a harbinger of bad luck was a common misunderstanding in India against the gentle creature, who does nothing but sleep all day and hoot sweetly at night. My belief was further strengthened when I saw a couple of Spotted Owlets on the tree next door. They are wee creatures, barely 8 inches, sitting in the tree hooting serenely or sleeping on the electric wires across the road.
One evening while I was walking up the stairs to the roof, I heard a weird screech. I had been hearing this screech ever since my first night here five years back. It gave me goosebumps everytime, and had reminded me of witches, giving me too many nightmares. Gradually, I had assumed that it was a Night Heron along the banks of Yamuna river or something on similar lines, but definitely far away, and definitely huge.
Hearing this screech, Curiosity propelled me up the stairs in half the time and I opened the door to the roof silently. Surprise! There was this eight-inch creature sitting on a pole. He was screeching at the top of his lungs until his friend flew out of the tree to meet him. He saw me, and flew away to party with his companion.
Well, so much for being gentle…I can now see how Owls earned their reputation in India! They are Dr Jakyll by the day, and Mr Hyde at night.
There he goes again…
There go my goosebumps again…
Not sure why but Egrets always look to me like grumpy old men. Their expression is always downcast and sad, shoulders hunched…I love them for their grumpiness.
Kingfishers are a common sight where I live. Though weirdly, there are no fishes in here. I’ve seen them feed on dragon flies and bees. May be they should be renamed as Bee-eaters but the real Bee-eaters might get offended…
In an attempt to give my daughter company during her ‘painting’ escapades, I created this on a rough page with her wax colours. Then she decided the rest of page wasn’t colourful enough and added stuff of her own. I would have kept it too, but leaving a Kingfisher in company of a Lion is rather cruel.
So I cut it out of the paper.
Then she wanted to ‘take a closer look’, so I took a picture to immortalize it in case she decided to go ninja on him.
It hassss been a difficult year–the god of rain hassss been relentlessss. Every other night, water gurglessss down my home driving me up a wall…or rather a tree.
So, here I wassss up on a tree again, waiting for the godssss to stop showering their blessingssss down on ussss, when the aroma hit me. I couldn’t help a peep inside the window next to me. There she wassss again, walking on the thin window ssssill in that tentalizing way that issss trademark of women who know the power they wield over men.
Had I been a mouse like her, I wouldn’t have been able to resisssst her.
So many timessss, I had seen her walk on that ledge. But today, I wasssss having a difficult time resisting her too…I wassss hungry. I had been on a hunt when the rain started pelting down and it hadn’t stopped all night. It issss close to dawn now, and my stomach wassss growling. This mansion has too many mice, which is a temptation, and but it also has too many humans–the only reason I had never hunted here.
They kill our kind the instant they spot any of ussss.
But at this time of the night, they would be deep asleep. I could just get in and walk out with a snack within minutessss! Nobody will be any wiser…my stomach growled in agreement. So, I reached out to the open window and slithered down in the room where three humans, rather two and a quarter, were deep asleep. Their body heat was too low for them to be awake and become a threat.
So, I followed the irresistible aroma of good food running around the floor. A few secondssss later, I was on the top step of stairs leading straight to heaven…down to the kitchen where the rats seemed to be having a feast. In an unthinking moment, I followed.
I was rather sleepy, moving in a food-induced trance, when I reached the bottom step. Damn! A human up too early…I hurried up a rack and inside a box that ssssmelled of old leather, hoping she hadn’t noticed me. Alassss! She called out on the top of her voice for reinfrcementssss.
There were sound of steps running down the stairssss and coming out of the inner room, and lot of shouting, and a bit of maniac giggling…(Some of these humanssss are plain weird!)
Suddenly, the box I was in moved, and I had an odd feeling of having left my stomach behind. I could feel the box sssspinning with me in it as it zoomed into the air and fell on the street outside. I quickly slithered out into darknessss before it was too late. I could hear loud thudssss of stonessss falling around me as I ran into cover. My tail had a scratch, and I wassss still hungry, but at least in one piece, which wassss a miracle considering my stupidity.
I am never going anywhere close to humanssss again. Let those mice take over their mansionssss, eat their food, chomp on their clothessss, bite them in fingerssss…that will really show these stupid humanssss…
Hurting an innocent ssssnake like me…
A little something inspired by a phot on Unsplash
Painting is my first love. A picture on Unsplash.com lead me to create this sketch.
Out of all the birds I have seen here, I have always missed the unassuming little sparrows. There was a time when they abounded Indian cities but the loss of habitat led to a devastating decrease in their numbers. I hadn’t seen any in ten years. So, this year, I was pleasantly surprised when I saw them hopping around at a cousin’s place in my city.
This article shows how we can help them survive.
Their spy network is the best in world. Their eyes are everywhere looking for hidden contraband. We have tried hiding ‘stuff’ from them in places never heard of before, but without success. Somehow, they always find it, and confiscate it for further investigation, and then detain it to run the smell and taste tests to ensure they are indeed edible.
Long story short, we never see it again.
It is indeed a war of wits between me and an army of passionate foodies. Once I open a box of anything edible, I spot one of them scouting around. I try hiding the food, immediately covering it to break the spell…the smell. But it is already too late.
Within seconds, a chain reaction begins. Each of them tells another on the way, and a line begins forming around the box–sharp eyes, sharp stings, shopping bags at the ready; looking for a way to break through the barriers and reach the on-Sale items within.
The trick is to move the ‘stuff’ around so it isn’t sitting in the same place for more than a few minutes.
Sometimes I win, but mostly, I try to act like I don’t mind them gobbling down my food. As if I can stop them if I want. Just a perspective change rather then admit defeat…
Free image by Maksim Shutove on Unsplash
It is 12.02 IST. I just saw around fifty buttery-yellow-white butterflies and several bees flying in the same direction.
It wasn’t a Let’s-go-on-a-community-picnic flying…
It was Gucci-has-90%-off-on-all-products and Hugh-Jackman’s-in-the-shop-signing-autographs flying…
There was a race in small groups with a lot of jostling and I was wondering where the party is. I saw it all in a couple of minutes at the window.
I wanted to stay longer and to see if there are more butterflies in the area and wait for them to return with bags of autographed merchandise, but I had a virtual meeting exactly at the moment. Sigh!
Free Photo by Nandhu Kumar on Unsplash
Sometimes, you just don’t know what to say to a uninvited guest, specially someone who is all decked up for the occasion.
When this guy showed up on the pretext of ‘just being around and curious of the huge doll house’, it was clear that things were not as they seem to be.
Our cue: He was wearing a tailcoat. I hadn’t invited him to my marriage’s dinner celebration, did I?
The guy was unapologetic as he leaned on one wall and made small talk about the ‘nice green walls’ and improving ecology, clearly not in a hurry to leave anytime soon. I wondered what had actually brought him here, until I found his attention wavering towards the wall behind me too often and his smile becoming too charming…where Stella, the Spider, was weaving her new house that sparkled like a rainbow in the sunlight. It had also caught some cute dew drops from the night before–pearls of finest quality.
The guy dropped all pretence of making a conversation, looking at her unblinking. He had stopped breathing, I think.
I could clearly see where it would all lead. All I can say is that Stella has got herself a very willing catch!
Someone call a priest!
Short Stories | Fish-eye Perspective 