Pigeon Post

The people of Delhi have inherited from their Mogul ancestors a love for pigeons. As you drive along the roads of Delhi you will see areas where people come to feed these pesky birds.

Hundreds of them flock to these feeding areas but many also try to roost on our balcony too. A daily task for me is to go round with a damp cloth and wipe pigeon poo off all the outside surfaces. Often as I reach the end of one stretch of marble balustrade there are two or three of our feathered friends toileting themselves again behind me. The job must be done though otherwise we’d have a guano pit all round our house.

The cultural divide was never so wide as in my attitude to these cooing creatures versus the attitude of my Indian colleagues. I arrived at work one day to find the door to the office closed. This was puzzling as the heat of the Delhi summer was still with us. I pushed the door open and people at once indicated that I should close it behind me. The explanation?

The previous day two pigeons had flown in. They had visited the office several times but this time a tragic fate awaited one of the pair of love doves. The whirling ceiling fan caught the female and spun it round in a haze of feathers and pink pigeon bits. The male flew out in a panic but was still seen for several days sitting forlorn and alone mourning its mate. He kept trying to come into the office to find her; so it was thought best to keep the door closed.

How long did he remain faithful? Well it seemed like he was there on his own for about two weeks and then suddenly there were a pair of pigeons sitting on the ledge again. Widower and new love or two completely different birds? Who knows? At least that was one pair not using my balcony as a toilet.