The guest

He has learnt the lesson: to survive you are at human's mercy. With his natural feeding ground, the countryside, turning into a chemical bowl of monoculture where poison kills insects, rodents and reptiles immediately in the fields--and humans themselves, slowly over a period of time as the toxicants enter the food chain and punish we humans for our collective sins--this beautiful multicolored wonder of mother nature enters houses, beating its natural fear of the two-footed most dangerous animal on the planet, and stands there like a well decorated beggar. What else to do? No option left. Struggling farmers pour chemicals, pesticides and weedicides in the fields. Nothing left for this free forager in the open lands. So it lands on terraces and yards to get survival morsels. Sometimes when its hunger is unbeatable, he follows people well into their rooms, like a cute kid hankering after elders for chocolate. Last time it came it had a huge bunch of shining and shimmering plumage, just on the verge of deloading. I could hear my mother requesting, "Arre pagal pankh hamare ghar gira ke Jaana!" But then in this he is the master of his own will. So here comes the colourful Romeo without his burden. He has shed his plumage and looks like a nimble, flirtatious teenager. Moves freely, flies with lesser effort. But it comes at the cost of love. Peahens won't give him a damn look without his decoration. And of course my mother is angry that he didn't shed even a single feather in our yard. "Go to them whom you gave your feathers!" The poor thing got reprimanded. She started with her household chores, but not before handing over a chapati to me to honour the colourful guest.