The association with pigeons has been a bit prolonged for my family. The alliance to my memory runs for some close to 3 decades now.
It started with small amounts of rice thrown in to the intruders while they murmured with gloated throats around the balcony. With this quotidian benevolence, the numbers soon began to rise; seemed as if they had a wonderful shout-out system to ensure that the message goes to as many. The courtyard seemed occupied by the intruders for most part of the day. The kit / flight, as I googled out the collective noun to be, included all hues of the Columbidae family from the pure silvery shining, the light gray with dirty spots around, the magenta necked overall deep gray to the close-to-black and the lapis-lazuli shade bearers. At some point I had become so used to the lot that I could distinctly make out the hungry note from the satisfied croaking.
I remember being asked to ferry a small sack of grains from a place which I used to get on my cycle. In the initial phase, it used to last a month. But with a degree of benevolence growing through me and my younger sister, it started to last less than a fortnight. But yes, the pains (for me) and the cost (for my parents) were worth it; the sheer pleasure of having these entities around and the awe-generation because of the timing maintained by them irrespective of the climate and the part of the year. They could recognize the person who was throwing the grains because I could see a distinct comfort among them when my father or mother were in the act. When the rolls changed over to me (which was very rare, though), they maintained a larger distance from the hand and some had a stoic silence on their crop (that is a distinct belonging of pigeons and doves which I learnt later).
While I was physically detached from my roots @ Rourkela for studies and then for the job treks, I was always thrilled with the news of these winged entities. As I was away, there happened three changes in the addresses for my parents back there but these entities followed them ritually.
As I headed home after almost 1 1/2 years, I was pleased to find the continuity of the ritual. The place of action has now shifted to the modestly large rooftop. My son had his quota of excitement amidst the multiple hurls of wheat, yes thats the new food for the visiting columbidaes.
Am sure each of these winged entities had something to do with the rapid growth of goodwill and blessings for my family.
Saturday, December 24, 2016
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
About Me
- sukhi_area
- banker for the belly, has a penchant for knowing something new, jumps into many things from neutrons-netas-nazis-nature, chronicler of anything historical, avid reader, occasional writer, connoisseur of food, amateur photographer, fb addict, blogger, stoic and philosopher at heart...
No comments:
Post a Comment