Visitors with Feathers

These days I wake up to cat calls (no pun intended) not bird song. Oh yes! My cat starts waking me even way before it is dawn. And, he’s so insistent, I find it difficult to put him back to sleep till it is time for me to wake up. There’s the occasional squawk from a crow or a chirp from a bird I hear then, who perhaps thought it’s time to wake up and is shushed by the others because it is too early.

Anyway, with the sun’s rays gradually inching higher the sky is suffused with shades of orange and pink. I sit down on the low wall of the terrace and prepare for a marvellous performance from Nature. It starts getting brighter and the clouds floating across a periwinkle sky get artistic. They flood the blue canvas with shapes of butterflies, dolphins, mermaids, elephants, rabbits, goats, castles, and what not. A group of ducks can be seen flying in a ‘V’, gracefully pacing the wide expanse towards their destination. The noisy parrots hurry on green wings to the fruit trees in the neighbourhood. They have a wide variety of houses to choose from and relish their favourite fruits– mangoes, guavas and chikoos.

Crows fly from buildings to electric wires to a heap of garbage cawing loudly, looking for a tasty morsel for their breakfast. The pigeons heavily circle the area in a large group, flying low. They settle down clumsily on my neighbour’s roof where he scatters grain for them every morning. The naughty sparrows chatter boisterously in the Neem tree’s branches of my garden waiting for my mother to fill their feeding bowl kept on the pillar under it, with boiled rice. Sometimes, a squirrel or two join the sparrows for breakfast and they’re welcomed happily. The bulbuls are a little late to join the breakfast party on the pillar but no one minds.

Soon, it’s time for a quick sip from the water bowl. One or two sparrows decide to have a quick dip while they sip and they shower the others with water. There are angry outbursts and many hop onto the branches of the Neem tree to avoid being sprayed. The party thus disperses quickly. Then, there are the occasional humming birds dressed in bright coloured feathers. They appear like flashes of lightning in the early morning sunlight. The male humming bird is quite an attractive fellow; he goes straight to the huge red hibiscus flower and drinks his fill of the nectar. The dull grey or brown female humming bird is a little shy; she alights on the Chinese honeysuckle and gently bows her head to drink from the fragrant blossoms. The Koel can be heard singing the lyrics of her song she penned and practiced the previous evening. I can’t help admiring the song and I’m lost for the moment. My cat is extremely dutiful and brings me back to reality. He reminds me it’s time for his breakfast and will simply not take ‘wait’ for an answer. His clamorous calls drown all other sounds and I have to hurry to fulfil his majesty’s demands before I’m punished with scratches for disobeying his highness.

Sometimes, a friend calls up during the evenings. I love talking to him... no... no... not because his conversations are riveting (sometimes they are I admit). They’re usually monotonous and pompous at times. I love it when he calls to me because I can hear the birds singing in the background. Sshhh... don’t tell him this, but when he thinks I’m listening to his long winding tales I’m actually listening to the peacocks calling out to the Rain God. It’s at this time that I hear the Koel practising her song for the morning, when she comes to sing in my neighbourhood. The jungle babblers and chaffinch join in for the evening choir. I must admit it’s so refreshing after a long day. While he carries on speaking, hordes of mynas fly overhead calling to each other loudly. They seem to be warning each other to keep up and not fall behind. My mind flies with them and I remember my grandmother chanting as I sat on her lap many-many years ago:

“One for sorrow

Two for joy

Three for letter

Four for boy

Five for silver

Six for gold

Seven for a secret not to be told!”

He’ll never visit this space to read this write-up, so he’ll never know I wait excitedly for his calls to hear the birds sing! And, I bind you with a sacred vow of silence never to tell him this. So there! I know I’m being naughty but one can’t help loving the sound of bird’s music, can they?

There’s another sound I can hear now – the rain falling and my stomach rumbling. It’s surprising how one can forget all else when Nature sings through birds or rain. Anyway, I’m off to have a late dinner. My mother has already reminded me twice. The third call will spell ‘toil and trouble’. See you next week!

Image courtesy: Thomas Watkins, Kaajal Dasgupta