Spring is in the air. So are elections. Brilliant bright coloured flowers blooming…in gardens, on walls, everywhere! Parties vying with each other to retain command and control over trodden and untrodden terrain. A cacophony of shouting, sloganeering, slandering, screeching, accusations and counter accusations making it almost impossible to discern the genesis of the clamor. In short, colourful times are ahead, and Holi, the spring festival of colors, is less than a month away.
Amidst all this, my attention was particularly drawn to a commotion immediately outside the main door. Deafening and blurred sounds, screeches and high pitched voices suggested a major fighting in the neighborhood. I rushed out and discovered two parties squabbling animatedly over possession of a space for residential purpose. Soon they were joined by a third party; a triangular contest to say the least.
I had earlier mentioned about intruders in my kitchen. Now they have turned encroachers, fighting over occupancy of the spout of a kitchen chimney for nesting and nurturing their young ones. I am still not sure which Myna couple succeeded, but peace prevails for the time being.
Speaking of Avian families, I wish to narrate my experience with a certain Mr Rooster and his six hens. During my posting in a northeastern state of India, I spent some months in a semi urban locality, where households are accustomed to rearing hens and pigs. This particular house, the ground floor of which served as my office, had half a dozen hens and almost two scores of chicken scattered all around the house and courtyard. The hens and their chicks had no qualms about hopping in and out of the office, jumping on tables, computers and the numerous office files that lay scattered around the rooms. The corridors would often be soiled in the morning hours and the office help would once in a while discover an egg laid on one of those files! Honest as he was, the egg was carefully handed over to the landlady and all my instructions to make an omelet was received with an innocent childish smile. “But the egg belongs to them”, he would reply coyly. “And what about the files? Those belong to the office, and unclaimed and abandoned eggs laid on anything official become the property of this office”, I would tell him sternly but it seemed to have no effect on him whatsoever!
Each of the hens had on an average five to six chicks following the mother hen wherever she went. The hens lived peacefully, nurturing their respective chicks and before long I knew which ones belonged to whom. Chicks which grew up (adolescent ones!), would gradually abandon the mother and venture out of the courtyard in search of new adventures. The mother hen, now free of her responsibilities, would resume tactics in seeking the attention of the rooster.
I had not encountered the rooster during the initial days. When I did I was taken aback by its grandeur, the magnificent colorful plumage, a bright red crest adorning its head, almost like a crown and an equally significant stunning red wattle just below the chin. Its gait was royal, head held high and full of arrogance clearly conveying who was in charge. The rooster seldom walked on the ground, preferring to tread on the high concrete boundary walls that encircled the house and the courtyard.
One afternoon I hurried out of the office hearing angry noises, which indicated a cock fight. There was “Shahenshah” attacking another rooster, who dared enter his territory. The trespasser was in a dishevelled state, his head crest broken, feathers plucked at places and clearly a poor match for the lord. Eventually, defeated and “crestfallen “, the gate-crasher retreated, however, temporarily. Incorrigible that he was, his futile incursions remained unabated for he had an eye for the “queen ” hens and I often found him sneaking a peek every now and then, although careful not to cross roads with the “master” of the house. A sudden encounter invariably resulted in being chased out in the most humiliating manner. The hens seemed to be immune to these routine visits from an obnoxious neighbor and went on in their daily activities; roaming the courtyard in search of worms, grain and seeds with their respective chicks following in a queue. During bad weather, storms or rains, the chicks carefully hid themselves beneath the wings of the mother hen, a head popping up from here and a little claw from there.
The lecherous rooster continued in its attempts, crossing the road and sneaking behind the most beautiful hen, though unsuccessfully; “never give up” being his motto!
Now I know why the chicken….ooops…rooster crossed the street? And also why it crossed back!!! Feeling a sense of achievement, having resolved an old riddle…finally! No? Then please feel free to share your views on the subject.
