A while back I’d written about a pigeon that had a less than satisfactory interaction with my car. The car didn’t feel too bad for sure and I felt a bit of annoyance but didn’t let it bother me much since there are way more pigeons than there are cars in this world. Or it seems to me.

A while back a flock of pigeons decided that TO’s window parapet was a good place to set up shop and play out the circle of life. They would coo to each other, mate, make a nest, lay their eggs, incubate said eggs, get hatchlings, some would die and the rest would fly off only to come back and replay the entire unchanging drama all over again.

In the process copious amounts of feathers were shed and poop was pooped. It was a not a place I was happy to call my own. We were majority hampered by the lockdown that was in place and couldn’t get a vendor to come and install pigeon nets for that area either. Over time the window ledge became guano central and had enough allergens floating around (literally) to make an allergist super-duper happy.

Let me tell you something about guano. It’s good as a fertiliser, sure, but it’s acidic in nature as well. It stinks and it’s not the most pleasing thing to set your eyes on either. It’s downright unpleasant and not something I want on my windows. And to top it all off the pigeons are no candidates for MIT since they kept doing their freaky round and round pacing even around the dead chicks and still managed to make their nests around the corpse and lay more eggs.

Facepalm GIFs | Tenor

Yesterday was another red letter day wrt said bird. One calmly sauntered, yes sauntered, into the dining room via the living room, through an open window and proceed to walk up and down the length of the hall as if it had paid the mortgage on the house. When I saw it and tried to shoo it away, it again proved how much of a brainiac it was by NOT flying through the large AND open balcony doors and out into the wide blue yonder. Instead it flew into the small kitchen and from there into the utility area outside the kitchen where we have pigeon nets to avoid the situation that was happening right then.

In due time Red, TO and our Favourite Girl#1 arrived on the scene and proceed to be unsuccessful in driving the then-panicked and still dumb bird away from the nets and towards freedom. It’s always fun being advised by a 41, 11 and 5 year old in rapid succession while I advance towards a scared bird that’s pooping all around the place where all the cleaning of the household goes on.

ᐈ Racing pigeons stock pictures, Royalty Free racing homer images |  download on Depositphotos®

Ultimately the said pigeon was captured with a sheet thrown over it and then released into sunny skies where am sure it did not head off towards safety. Knowing this particular bird, am sure it headed to the next apartment’s window and promptly started to explore how their house was set up.

Jokes apart, it is very difficult trying to get a firm grip on a squirming body. It was tough when TO was a baby who had enough mucus jammed up his nose to make me become nauseous and I had to go all octopus on him with the nasal aspirator. And it was tough yesterday with the bird with the super silky feathers and a brain that didn’t tell it to do anything but fly in circles and flap its wings uselessly.

I. Really. Don’t. Like. Pigeons.

They should confine themselves to pooping on statues, St.Mark’s Square and Trafalgar Square and just be happy. Anything more is just greedy; plain and simple!

Home Is Where the Hammer Is…

Red and I got married 14 years ago and he was living in a pretty compact apartment in the city, close to where he used to work back in the day. It was a rental, we had very little furniture and tried to make it a cozy space with some brightly coloured cushions, sheets and a few paintings on the wall. But for the most part it wasn’t a place we were terribly enthu about living in long term.

We lived there for a few months and moved into our first home- along with a mortgage, luggage and added on books, some things here and there and a kid. It was an overall peaceful albeit a slightly dull life in patches. I say in patches because once TO arrived, we forgot what it was like to have time to think about life before kids.

I was still working a regular 9-5 back then and Red’s always been WORKING so the house was literally a crash pad and for living over the weekends. We entertained very little and it came alive once the brat was born. It was then his domain entirely!

In the fag end of circa 2013 we moved to the current place we live in now. This is our own place too and we moved in with slightly lesser number of books, more kiddy stuff, yet another mortgage and a spring in our steps. We’ve really been living it up here compared to how our lives where in the old house. Each one of us has friends, a well-define social circle but we’ve also had enough of run-ins with hammers, chisels, building, breaking and rebuilding stuff too. TO is so firmly ensconced here that any sign of any change, even it is something he likes later on, gets on his nerves.

After 7 years of living here, we felt the place needed some upgrades, mostly functional changes, nothing major but changes nonetheless and those began yesterday. We have a good friend who has a very good eye for design, optimisation of space and aesthetics overall and she’s drawn up a few things that Red and I are quite kicked about. But to TO, it’s just a bunch of people coming into his space to break things, make the place look unfamiliar and he’s not a happy camper. He’s looking at people coming into his house to make changes and even if those changes are to take out shelves where we were storing junk, he wants it kept int toto- no change, nothing, NADA!

When I tried to show him the 3D renditions that were shown to us about the proposed changes he sniffed, turned his nose up at it and said that doesn’t look like our house at all. So I let him be. In another day or so he’ll see the biggest advantage to having workers around for most of the day- his parents being busier than ever and not being able to keep an eagle eye on him and whether he’s actually in his classes or in a galaxy far, far away…beatboxing away to his heart’s content.

Note: That’s the new fad and he’s pretty decent at memorising the songs he’s seen online and singing them word for word. This is the same child who routinely forgets to do at least one part of a two-part job on a daily basis…SIGH

But stay tuned for more home improvement pictures…and now I must away for there is a cup of tea with my name on it and I want to enjoy it while the brat and his father slumber deeply. There’s a tree where the leaves and the drying pods of the fruit rustle in the leaves and it’s very soothing and almost hypnotic in the darkness. It’s a while before it’ll be sunrise and the neighbors are awakening, starting their morning walks and in a few hours there’ll be some more banging of hammers along the gripes of child who’s suddenly grown an attachment to wooden shelves and there’ll be me- drinking coffee and counting days till she runs her hands over every single new inch of her home that she’ll spend the rest of her life trying to keep clean.


Moving On…

I’ve lived in quite a few places. Changed houses, states, countries and a continent in the process.

But the longest I’d lived anywhere till date was the first place Red and I bought after we got married. It wasn’t that much of a well-thought out decision. We didn’t factor in any green space close by, or schools.

The place was BIG, we had the room that we needed for our books, clothes and kitchen stuff. When the parents came to visit, they each had their own rooms with attached loos and the view from the balcony, while not spectacular, was cozy and I had flowering plants on the parapet for the almost the entire duration we lived there.

We planned a family in the apartment, had a kid who learnt to walk there. We had our fights, plans for the future, packed for trips and ultimately made it a home. And now, 4 years later, it’s gone back to being an apartment again.

We had tenants living there till recently and when they moved out I realized that I’d cut my ties with the place well and truly. Earlier, I used to be able to see glimpses of my kid toddling about the house along with other memories of us going about our lives; without getting hauled in for hallucinating.

But this time around I felt like it was someone else’s space that I was visiting. I still knew where the light switches were (Red doesn’t remember them for the place we live in even now) but there was not tugs felt once I switched off the lights and locked the door on the home we’d lived in for 6 years.

People move on. Sometimes it’s a such a smooth process that you wake up one day and realize that you no longer possess a particular frame of mind. And there are other times when you literally browbeat yourself into moving forward.

The people we couldn’t do without once- we can now go without talking to them for days on end and things still seem alright. The lifestyle we held to be an absolute truth gets swapped for another one and we ease into it so seamlessly it’s almost as if nothing else ever existed.

It’s a heady and yet a very reassuring thought…I for one am relieved.

Have a good weekend people.


Movie Review: Home

MLM has summer holidays and it’s driving me up the wall. A movie seemed like a good way to get him to climb other walls outside the home.

And because it’s his summer vacation I’ll keep it short.


Barring the creation of the Boovs where Jim Parson’s Sheldon Cooper-manner of talking, albeit with grammatical errors, gets an extension into the realm of animation; there is nothing new in this movie.

Cliches galore. Hackneyed. The music is predictable. Rihanna is more likeable as a toon than in real life.
And NO…am not being unduly bitchy. The movie is strictly for the kids.

Even the ending is like Chicken Little’s.
Take your kids for it and drift off. Or do what I did…guzzle down nachos while waiting for yet another predictable outcome.

The Uprooted Gypsy

I’ve categorized myself as a gypsy since long. Not because I have dark, good looks or lots of jet black flowing hair…no sirree! I’ve moved from one place to another as far back as I can recall.

9 schools. 1 place for graduation and yet another for the Masters. And a job or two along the way.

I wasn’t entirely a tumbleweed but hadn’t developed any roots so going from one place to the other was simple enough and often the only option.

The city I live in now is literally been the first place I call my home. Others have come close but this place is home. Ask anyone who has duct taped packing boxes more times than they care to imagine and they’ll tell you they exactly what I mean!

Been here nearly 9 years. Longest duration anywhere, ever! and this is the first place I had a place of my own as well. Red and I that is. And now we’re moving. It’s just out of the neighborhood and into a place I can see from my roof but it’s still a move.

The place where I’m staying now is the first place we lived in that was our own. It’s cozy. The smells are familiar as are the scattered toys and the scribbles on the wall by an enthusiastic toddler.

The new place is fresh, clean, higher up with a better view of the city and offers more opportunity to interact with like-minded people which has been entirely absent here. But the familiarity of a place, especially one where you’ve put down your roots finally is VERY difficult to leave behind.

There have been special meals, tantrums, birthdays, anniversaries, plans of the future, colors, music and more loads of laundry done than I care of imagine. All here.

And to leave it behind is incomprehensible. Even while I sort through things and make piles of ‘To Give Away’ and ‘To Keep’.

It’s not so much the packing and leaving that I mind. It’s the starting over. It’s often like Sisyphus and his boulder.

But despite all the gloom for leaving behind a home and the what’s clearly the end of an era for me, I’m also (in a non-overt manner) looking forward to the fresh, clean, vibrancy that will come with a new place.

And, in time, it too will become home.


Originally uploaded by ag80.

Didn’t have the handycam or the regular camera around when I took this one.
The white stuff, which I used to think of as thermocol is actually something called ‘shola’ and is a kind of tree sap which is fragile but hard enough for designs to be carved on it.
The tiaras, the jewellery is all made from shola and looked gorgeous and was painstakingly done by the potter-artisan for about 1 month prior to the puja.