The
terrace of my building is my instant getaway. One flight of stairs up and
I am out in an open space so rare in the city of Mumbai.
A breath of fresh air, a wider view of the space around
and a partial view of the sea across between the
buildings, can be considered a luxury in the city. Although this terrace
is not my private space, it is not frequently used by the other occupants
of the building and I have made it my own.
I
climb up the stairs at least twice a day, morning and evening. An early
morning cup of tea on the terrace when I feed the pigeons is
my private time when most members of my family are still in
bed and I enjoy my personal blend of tea which only I like in my
family. So while I enjoy the tea and observe the pigeons having their first
meal of the day, the sun rises slowly from behind the distant buildings
and the noise of the traffic below in the street slowly becomes
louder. It is during this time that I collect my thoughts
and ponder over my dreams of the previous night while I prepare myself for
the impending day ahead.
In
the evening after officially the day is over I go up to the
terrace once again this time to cool off so to say, depending on how the
world has treated me through the day. I usually water the plants I
have kept on the terrace at that time, my personal patch of garden so to
say. I also fill water in a pot which I have kept on the parapet wall for
the birds to drink water from. The birds mostly comprise of noisy
crows and my group of pigeons. I have some proud moments sometimes
when I am rewarded with a flower or two from my Hibiscus or Jasmine
plant. A consolation prize for someone like me who would have
liked to have a farm of my own and I have in the past tended small
private gardens while living in small towns where my father often
got posted often while serving with the Central Govt.
Sometimes I also use that time to take a brisk walk if I have not had
my normal share of the day’s exercise régime. As I walk I watch the
sun going down the sea behind the buildings and observe the changing hues
in the evening sky. This part of the evening often ends when I sit on the
parapet wall and hum some of my old favourite Hindi film songs.
Slowly the darkness descends in the sky and the shimmering lights of the
city come on.
There
are many kinds of birds which frequent the trees around
my building including sparrows, mynahs, bulbuls, koyals and on
some rare occasions woodpeckers. Pigeons and crows are the
permanent inhabitants of the area and they are in abundance. These pigeons
and crows have their own territories which are normally a
building or a set of buildings, its terraces and the surrounding trees. My
own building has its own set of crows and pigeons; pigeons whom
I feed in the morning and the crows that cackle through the day and drink
water from the pot I keep for them. For their food they are on their
own, scavenging in the surrounding area but for water they come to their own
watering hole on my terrace.
Pigeons live peacefully in the surrounding areas while
the crows as always are flying around and making noise all the time with
or without a valid reason. When I appear on the terrace in the morning or
in the evening they would greet me with some noise and some unnecessary flights but then would settle down
once they realise that they are not under any imminent danger from me and no one
was transgressing their territory. But after my recent fortnight holiday
with my family when I landed on my terrace I faced a hostile bunch of
crows. While the pigeons took just a couple of days to settle down to an old
routine the crows made it a long story. Not only did they start flying around me in a noisy
way but some of them also attacked me physically pecking at me on my
head. One particular crow
became my personal enemy while others settled down in a supporting role.
This
particular crow looked old and cranky and I think very cynical (my
perception!). Every time I appeared on the terrace it came swooping down
from nowhere and tried to poke my head. Fortunately the damage was
minimal due to the thick hair on my head. But I had to seriously take
evasive measures. First I thought that like the pigeons the crows too
would settle down to the old ways and recognise their benefactor who
religiously kept water for them to drink, no matter what season of the year it
was. But no way; they had decided that some imposter had come into their
territory instead of me and then it became a long fought battle
particularly with that old cynical senior citizen (or so I thought!).
So
I had to pick up a few pebbles as a defense and throw at them every now
and then to let them know that they cannot just attack me
whenever they felt like. But my reflexes could not match up with
theirs and this old gentleman or woman of a crow kept on swooping down on
my head. Now that I was aware of their presence they could not
bodily harm me. But what was hurting my ego was the fact that they
did not give up their intention to hurt me and also the fact that it
was my territory they were transgressing and the fact that I was
really getting angry with them and I seriously wanted to retaliate and
had intentions to kill them -- at least that particular angry
crow. That I did not like; anger towards a bird and an
intention to kill. That hurt my self esteem. I was losing my equanimity. I
thought of the Buddhist monk I once saw on a mountaintop in the Himalayas.
So
I picked up a stick and kept it with me as I took my walk on the terrace and kept on waving it every time I thought
that this crow was approaching me from behind. That certainly kept the
crows away and barring this particular crow all others started keeping a
distance although they did not stop their cacophony. But that became a bit
of an unnecessary exercise, swinging my stick which was not very
light. So I changed my stick and took up a lighter one and instead of
swinging it every time I thought I am being approached by a hostile crow I
just held it up above my head so that the crow cannot hit my scalp with
its beak. That worked and once or twice the crow got hit by my
static stick on its beak. That made me feel a little better as I had got
over my aggression and I was only taking an evasive action and
not resorting to active aggression with an intention to kill. That made
me feel better and restored my
self esteem.
As
days went by and I continued my walk on the terrace with my light stick in
my hand the crows learnt to respect my presence and started keeping their
distance although they continue to sing their songs when I appeared but
they moved away to nearby trees or distant parapet walls
and watched me take my walk no more holding the stick above my head. The old disgruntled crow continued to
make his presence felt by flying past every now then but now kept a safe
distance knowing full well that it might be hurt if it made an attempt to
hurt me. But it continued to be around when I took a walk and made me aware of
its presence in a noisy way. In the end the battle of space gradually got over and I got to walk freely on my
terrace with one change, a light stick in
my hand. The stick actually was from a rose bush branch which I had cut many,
many years ago on a hill station but had never used it since. I had kept
it safely in my cupboard for a time when I would be old and will
carry it in my hand like many old people do. But this was different. May
be its time had come.
Vishnu
Mathur.
11th,
June, 2013.
PS.
Some
more time has passed since then and after a spell of heavy rain the old
crow is not to be seen anymore, may be it died and I do not use the stick
any more when I take my walk on the terrace and the crows mind their own
business and I mind my own. Peace seems to have been restored
and we all have our spaces to ourselves.
1st
July 2013
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