The Hindu Business Line : A home without loans

One had given up on the 100 ft. tall palmyra palm (Borassus flabellifer), two feet away outside the gates of our co-operative housing society. It had grown bald, shedding its long stalked leaves. But the palmyra palm has not given up; after about five years, it has grown a new crown and the evidence: three baya weaver birds (Ploceus philippinus; Thonga-nathan in Tamil) have started building their vase-like nests at the tips of the palm leaves.

As one made one’s way home on Monday morning, one heard a familiar ‘chee chee’ and looking up, stood still on the road to note two birds flying in and out of the nests they were making. One can watch the busy birds from the terrace of the A-wing as it is on level with the palm tree and with the sun obliging with a shot of bright light, Ganesh started clicking his new digital camera. The head is a flashy yellow with streaks of the same colour on the back while the face wears a dark brown mask and in the sunlight the birds glisten.

One had seen baya weaver birds at the Sailana grasslands near Ratlam in Madhya Pradesh; also, some eight years ago, these birds were regulars at the palmyra palm during the breeding season. Salim Ali explains: “A sparrow like chit-chit-chit. In breeding season, males follow these up by a long drawn joyous chee-ee uttered in chorus, accompanied by flapping of wings in unison while weaving their nests in a colony. … the nest is a swinging retort-shaped structure with long vertical entrance tube, compactly woven out of strips of paddy leaf and rough-edged grasses, suspended in clusters from twigs usually over water.”

In the last few days, one has been watching (with binoculars) from the terrace, three (on Wednesday a fourth joined in) birds flying into their half-formed nests, holding in their beaks long, thin strands of grass from the nearby rice fields; using their beaks as needles, they thread their nests with the slivers of grass, popping in and out of the nests.

Sometimes, the birds quarrel, as the strong raids the nearby nest of the weak to snatch building material. Perhaps, the birds had watched on their TV screens, Ramesh Sippy’s Sholay and not the flop-show of Ram Gopal Varma̵ 7;s Aag.

Shama Futehally writing on Salim Ali reveals: “At Kihim, for want of gainful employment, he took to sitting in the stubble and watching weaver birds. This was to result in the path-breaking study of the weaver bird’s habits, ‘which showed that the birds had not read the text-books.’ It established that the male weaver is an ‘artful polygamist’, and that female weavers make their choice of husbands based on the male’s nest-building capacity.” Heavy rains do not seem to hinder the construction activity sans housing loans and interest rates. In a short while, the nests will bear eggs, the chicks will come out, the parents will feed them and the new generation will fly away. Having done their job, the parents will abandon the nests till the next rains.

On Monday, when one went for the scheduled check up of one’s heart, the doctor was mildly surprised. “It is a perfect 120/80. How do you manage it?,” asked my lady doctor, who has been tracking my heart for the last 12 years. She took an ECG and that again was fine.

“I understand from your wife that you have retired. Usually, retired persons drop into depression and have imperfect heart beats. Are you on some anti-depressants?,” she asked.

One informed her that sometimes one missed out on the BP tablets and there was no taking of any anti-depressants. “If I take any such medicine, I will be the first to inform you,” one told her. One refused to tell her that bird watching or staring at trees in and around your home, can do away with sore feelings. And then she confessed to suffering frequently from low moods.

“My husband is a marketing manager, bluffing the world. He even treats his wife like a customer. Both my daughters are in US and are planning to settle down in New York. That’s my problem. All this Internet chat and mobile calls across time zones are not the same as living with them. I cannot live with them in New York for more than a month. Last time I spent some four weeks in New York boxed in an apartment with a TV as my two daughters went to work. ….. You know, you cannot chat with people on the roads like one does in Borivili. They have no time. One whiled away days and nights watching TV and now a TV is a must for me.”

As she was examining one’s heart, a TV business channel in her room was speculating on the movements of the Sensex. “I have put some money in shares as interest on bank deposits will not get one a cup of tea at the railway stalls,” she added.

A large number of doctors and retired gentry are today sold on the Sensex. On morning walks, they discuss share prices, after picking up a business paper from the mobile news stand.

Spend a few minutes at one of the medicine shops and one can be privy to the investments made by them in shares.

When the doctor asked me for tips, one’s blood pressure shot up, as one has never understood why the Sensex goes up or down on any particular day. Perhaps, share market correspondents also know little. — P . Devarajan

More Stories on : Wildlife | Reflections

Article E-Mail :: Comment :: Syndication :: Printer Friendly Page

Stories in this Section
A home without loans