A peek in the world of motherhood!

Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family: Whatever you call it, whoever you are - You need one!

Will you be able to come home this Diwali? – My mom asked me over a call. No MOM. For heaven’s sake!! Your repeating the same question ten times won’t change my answer. I have my office season going on, there’s a release next week and I don’t want to miss out on a great opportunity. OK – My mom said in an obvious upset tone, it’s just that I miss your homecoming during festivals. I miss you too ma, but please understand, I will try next month, Promise. BYEEE.

I hung the phone as I took a sip of my morning coffee sitting on the swing of my balcony. Before I could get a moment to reflect on our conversation, something caught my attention. A Pigeon was starting to build a nest besides a pot kept in the corner or our balcony – NO NO NO NO NO. Please No. I cannot deal with a nest here, the mess of a nest, the bird poop dropping all over the balcony. The thought itself was horrifying. I fluttered the pigeon away and went to office.

The next morning, as I stepped in the balcony, the pigeon was almost half way through. I picked up the sticks and was about to thrash them when I saw those pretty eyes staring at me, as if they wanted to say – Mam! I have worked hard to collect these sticks, please don’t discard them. Addressing to the little guilt inside, I just kept the sticks on an adjacent passage and told the bird – “Consider this as a warning, please don’t create your nest in my balcony, use the passage and we are good”. Only if the bird could hear me!

The morning after that, a fully constructed nest was waiting to welcome me. I was taken aback by the audacity of the bird. This time, the nest is going in thrash for sure. I bent over to pick it up, but saw a tiny little egg lying there. There is a limit to how cruel you can be! I had no choice but to welcome a new guest to be arriving soon in our family!

The bird kept hatching the egg and I kept feeding her grains and crumbs. Once the little one peeped out, what I saw and experienced over the next week or so did not seem to be real. In our crazy busy lives, we don’t get time to reflect on human relations, and there was this pigeon family, which opened my eyes to the whole new dynamics of animal kingdom, which is insanely similar to us.

There were two pigeons around the new born squab. Sorry - It does not make sense to call them pigeons now, they were mother and father! How do I know? I can bet my life on it as it was that evident. The mother kept feeding the squab, hatching it, caressing it, while the father – he kept aloof, sitting on the railing. He never came near the squab, but the moment a crow came anywhere near the nest, this father pigeon would miraculously appear and hit the crow away, making sure that the squab was guarded and protected at all times!

I kept watching them, I kept soaking it, and I kept relishing the importance of a family bond. The first time his mother put a crumb in his beak, the first step of the squab which came after a lot of deliberate pushing by his mother, the fist coo – everything was so beautiful.

One fine day, the pigeons were gone, leaving me absolutely unsure of what to do with the kiddo. My maid told me it was time for the little one to learn things on his own. But how? He could barely walk. And now, the nest started smelling really bad with the squab’s poops. I had no choice but to assume the responsibility of his mother! I started feeding him, keeping a cup of water by his side. Occasionally a couple of pigeons came, hit him, till I heard shrieking voice of Chotu (I have named him by now) and fluttered them off. Chotu used to get so terrified by this that he was even sacred of me feeding him. He would just violently flap his newly discovered wings when I tried to feed him. The next day, what I saw made me understand the gameplan! The mother pigeon was pulling Chotu by his beak and dragging him the edge of the Balcony. I wanted to flutter her off, but by now, I have understood what was going on. The occasional visitors hitting Chotu with their beaks were his parents. I could never teach him how to fly. It was only them who could do it. It was so beautiful, Chotu’s mom and dad kept taking him to the edge , kept pushing him, and he kept flying inside the balcony. He was just too scared to fly up in the sky. . They kept playing in the balcony, chasing each other, chirping. I could have watched this masterpiece for years if I had a choice. But with this also came a lot of mess. The bird droppings were all over the place, I could not dry my clothes in the balcony as more often than not, they would end up stained by Chotu’s poop.

And more then all this, if I kept feeding him, he will never bother to go outside the balcony and make his own living! So I stopped feeding him. A couple of days passed by, it was so difficult to go out and see those moist eyes. Chotu kept looking for food in the balcony. As soon as I opened the door, he would come rushing to me, but I did not feed him. I just opened the balcony to clean the mess of Chotu’s poop all over, and shut it off.

The custom continued for 3 days and the fourth day, he was gone!

The balcony was quiet and clean. I could freely move around without being cautious of stepping on birds droppings. Yeyyyy.. Freedom – I wanted to shout with all my might. Still, my eyes incessantly kept searching the corners, penetrating the sides of the pots with a buried hope that Chotu might be hiding somewhere. When I did not find him, I was convinced that he might have gone to fetch food, to discover the joys of flying and will come back soon. But he was gone!

A couple of days passed, to me it seemed like forever. I kept running to balcony at every small noise, I kept longing to hear Chotu’s cluck amongst all the pigeons cooing. I could not relate to this new wave of emotion in me. I am very detached as a person and definitely not a pet lover. But this experience made me feel so empty as if I have lost a part of myself. I wanted him to come back. I wanted to nurture him but had no choice other than accepting the fact that he was gone for good. Flying is his fate. He cannot be trapped his whole life in a balcony. Sky is his limit and I should be happy about it. With all these thoughts in my mind, I stood in the balcony, with moonlight spilled on the floor. I took one step towards to railing to look at the moon. And THERE!!!!! I stepped on Poop!! Between the clear sky and my gaze, was Chotu sitting on the suspension rope of the swing. He was sleeping. Head curled beneath his wings – his tiny black feets holding the rope firmly, his unshed hairs on neck – Yes it was indeed him! I wanted to wake him up, to slap him, to hug him and ask him – Where have you been?

Seeing him asleep gave me a sense of fulfillment. I wished him good night and closed the door, leaving rest of the stuff to be settled in the morning. The next morning, first thing I did once I woke up was to rush to the balcony and greet my Chotu. But he was again gone!! But this time, I have had my closure.

Knowing that no matter wherever he goes, he will come back home if he needs a peaceful sleep, made all my anxieties disappear. A tear rolled down my cheek as I called my Mom – Ma, I am coming home this Diwali!