The little me

Looks like it is nesting time for pigeons.

There is this one persistent pigeon trying to sneak in and build its nest in my utility area. I tried scaring it off multiple times, but it just refuses to give up. Now there are two eggs and this nest and this pigeon settled comfortably under my uitility sink.

I shooed the pigeon away and turned around to find wide eyed Charu looking straight back at me like how Greta Thurnburg would look at  Donald Trump. I knew what she was going to say even before she opened her mouth.

"Mommy, how would you feel, if you were that bird and I am that egg, and someone shooed  you away when you are with me? You yourself had said once that this world belongs to plants and animals and birds too."

I knew it. I would have said the same to my mother some 20 odd years ago.
And yes i did tell Charu once, when she was scared to climb a tree because it had ants, that the tree belongs to ants too and that we should learn to co-exist. I had told her about Vaikom Muhammad Basheer's short story  "Bhoomiyude Avakashikal" (The rightful inheritors of Earth), one of my favorite. 

Now there is no way that I can disregard her compassion and tenderness at this age, and I just hope she doesn't loose it ever. I could only visualize what I am going to do every Saturday morning from now on- scrubbing my utility off pigeon shit.

And if everything goes well for the pigeon family, take care of the little pigeons that will hatch in some days.

Wonderful!