Scaring crows the pigeon way

Cuddles and Coots are not just driving me up the wall, but they think they are driving me out of home and hearth as well. I like wide open windows in my kitchen. Proper ventilation, leaf-flavoured breezes and plenty of sunlight are luxuries that curtains, blinds, bars and screens should never interfere with, or so I thought.

Cuddles and Coots, though, turned out to be far more interfering. When we first met, they were a really cute couple who spent most of their time just hanging out outside the kitchen window. Gradually they got closer and we talked a bit. Soon they started venturing in even without me pottering around.

Adorable

Their perch of choice was the top of my kitchen cupboard. It started out being adorable two crazy-in-love grey pigeons cuddling and cooing in my home. Somewhere along the line, things started breaking. Things like my favourite honey-coloured glasses and then things like a family heirloom china plate and then, there was my patience.

It got so I could not leave the kitchen for more than five minutes at a stretch. Not only did they squeeze their way through the tiniest crack of a window opening, but they fluttered and cooed to announce their arrival.

Sadly, relations soured. It became my unfortunate duty to shoo them away. Cuddles made time the moment she heard my holler from the living room, but Coots was more defiant and looked me in the eye with an injured tone. He huffed and puffed out his feathers before making an exit with his beak in the air.

Coots was giving me some serious bad vibes, like I was out of line or something. It was almost as if Cuddles and Coots were on a mission.

Old-fashioned way

A few weeks ago our building maintenance department decided they were going to paint the exterior. In these parts, they still do it the old fashioned way by tying together a rickety grid-like frame of bamboo poles for the painters to cling on to for dear life. These poles have hampered window mobility somewhat, with the result that half of the kitchen window is permanently ajar.

Now, Cuddles and Coots get up real close, look me in the eye and coo piteously. I tried reasoning with them while washing dishes, but all they did was gaze longingly at my cupboard. While dicing vegetables, I was more firm. My tone and the knife I wielded were apparently not expressive enough as they stayed just outside my window, brimming with hope.

Cuddles and Coots were doing a grand job of making me feel guilty, but visions of china shards aided in keeping my resolve.

It was time to get mean and nasty. Cuddles and Coots were greeted with angry arm movements and harsh words. They acted insulted and scooted to the closest tree. Cuddles and Coots gave me the cold wing and I was almost beginning to miss them.

Concentrating on cleaning cubes of beef one day, I was peripherally aware of a movement of flapping wings on my left. Heh, heh … back again? I turned to stare into an ugly, almost diabolical pair of black eyes attached to an equally black head. The most hideous crow ever had settled on the bamboo and was eyeing the beef cubes with relish.

I screamed, the crow departed pronto and my beef curry was ready in record time.

Two days ago, I detected a familiar cooing. Could it be? Cuddles and Coots were furiously busy with enough twigs, twine and cotton to line a cave. They asked permission to stay and I cooed back. It was Cuddles and Coots or the crow. Tough choice.

Shalini John is a journalist based in Mumbai.