Percy wasn’t his usual perky self. His nape was leaner, and his chest didn’t exude the same pride. Sir PM and Lady Flora glanced at each other, as they seated themselves in the last pew at the Cathedral; their friend had perched himself beside them; their one-time plump, bubbly and bindaas winged friend, who was their messenger for decades now. Being the spokesperson of the pigeon community, he was burdened with keeping the calm, given the recent diktat to stop feeding pigeons at kabutarkhanas across the city.
“Percy, have you eaten something…?” As soon as the words rolled out, Sir PM knew he had erred. To save face, he quickly pulled out a few slices of fruit, to offer his friend who wasn’t interested. He was just back after assuaging two factions — Dadar Pigeons Coo and the Fort Pigeons Coo – both with different views on the ruling. “I’ve managed to buy time, Sir PM. The Dadar faction is cooing mad that they are no longer welcome to what’s been their OG dining spot for centuries. The Fort group was pro-hooman; they feel that it’s a sensible move, given the health factor,” Percy revealed, glancing at his feathers, to check for any damage, given that he played referee during the aforementioned scuffle between the rival factions.
“But can’t they see reason? Do they not have other spaces to head to, for their meals?” Lady Flora asked, adding, “It’s bad enough that they poop all over my head after these meals.” Her unfiltered utterances alarmed Percy, who looked like he was going to cry. “Oh, no…no! Please don’t get upset; it’s just those errant ones, who get cheap thrills by engaging in this kind of vandalism and that too, on heritage structures, which need even more TLC to restore.” Realising that the meeting was going nowhere, Sir PM intervened, “Okay, moving on… So, Percy, what would you suggest my former bosses do, to help resolve this scenario?” The pigeon did a 180-degree turn on the bench, as if trying to gather his thoughts, and began, “For starters, I understand that this is a hooman-induced directive, and we are living in their world, so we cannot overpower them. But we’d like to seek an alternative; can spaces be allocated to us that are less harmful to hoomans, where we can freely be allowed to consume grains without the fear of being chased away by all kinds of scary mediums? I heard talk about using firecrackers and whatnot! We are a peaceful race but yes, like with any species, we have bad apples. But we never imagined we’d be the first target, and that too, with an extreme step,” he reasoned, as Sir PM and Lady Flora listened, and took notes.
“But your ilk can get really violent; I’ve personally seen the ruckus they create near the General Post Office kabutarkhana. It’s dangerous to walk anywhere close, for fear of being brushed over by those fatties…” Sir PM had erred again. “I mean to say, some militant ones ought to be mindful since it’s a public space; the mess and damage is far-reaching. It’s a serious health hazard for those with asthma and other breathing issues.” Percy looked downcast. “Yes, I am aware of these medical issues, but surely, can a proposal be drafted for open spaces away from people? It’s all we are asking for. My London pals are in the red, too. Imagine, there is a ban on feeding feral pigeons at Trafalgar Square. Society seems okay with those menacing, rascal crows, but not us,” he sighed.
“Percy, we see your point but we must look at the larger picture. It’s a global concern, not a whimsical clampdown. With growing numbers, and no way to control your population, we have to start somewhere. And Bombaywallahs have to deal with higher density so the risk is higher,” Lady Flora appealed to her friend, hoping he would see light. Thankfully, he wasn’t irked. “Very well then…I’ll relay these serious concerns to my flock. It’ll be a challenge but I have data to share, thanks to mid-day’s reportage. Hopefully, the flock violence will stop. I cannot speak for them, if alternative feeding grounds aren’t provided to us really soon. Hoomans ought to think fast before they are faced with another nuisance,” he warned, as both friends looked worried. “We hear you…this will be shared soon with the civic bosses. But please keep your flock calm. We cannot have angry pigeons pooping from the skies at will to prove a point to us. I promise, we will come back with an informed, balanced solution,” Sir PM pleaded.
“We are grossly misunderstood, so this is our chance to prove that we are law-abiding. Hoomans also ought to be responsible by curtailing this practice of feeding us,” Percy cheekily shot back, leaving his friends tongue-tied for a change.
mid-day’s Features Editor Fiona Fernandez relishes the city’s sights, sounds, smells and stones… wherever the ink and the inclination takes her.
She tweets @bombayana. Send your feedback to mailbag@mid-day.com