A dray of squirrels

It was on either the first or the second second day of my
Shiva Deeksha, towards April end, that I had got my first
sighting of a squirrel in my neighbourhood. The credit for this
mostly goes to the degree of early morning bushy-tailedness of my
eyes (the grogginess from Coffee deprivation kicked in from the
fourth day onwards), or probably to the fact that I had been peering
through a 55-300mm lens for almost a month, and had developed a
naturalist's perspective, in terms of detecting movement in what
probably constitutes the nearest plane of sight for the eye.

Or, as my brother said, it had to do with my Shiva Deeksha and
divine intervention -- since Lord Shiva is considered the lord of
all beasts, birds and praanis -- and the squirrels were "visiting"
me.

Whatever the reason be, that first squirrel sighting led to a
second squirrel sighting and then -- before I was a week into
my Shiva Deeksha -- came the discovery that a pair of squirrels
were living in a cable junction box fixed onto the electric pole
in front of my gate. Naturally, in the days that followed, the
squirrels were more or less a constant daily object of my attention,
while I got more adept at using the camera and learning the ropes of
"wildlife photography". And, the reason for a lot of wonder and joy
too, because there were times when I had to blink and pinch myself
and question if Coffee deprivation was making me see double
(or quadruple), because there would be days when four of these
little fellows would be looking back at me, watchfully and
squirrely in their mien -- perched on the junction box, peering
out of it or just curled around the coil
of cable, bushy tail hanging, shooting the breeze...

And oh yes, life wasn't exactly a picture perfect
portrait -- ensconced in a cosy and safe junction box and
the object of attention of a harmless poet -- for the
squirrels. There was much drama and pathos too.

Most mornings all through May the junction box used to be
visited by a pair (and at times three or even more) of
Brahminy Starlings (a bird related to the Common Mynah) and
all hell would break loose. Because (unless the reason for this
attack was some running feud at the family level or the species
level) the Brahminy Starlings seemed intent on grabbing the
junction box for a nest and determined on driving the squirrels
out by hectoring and dive bombing them at every available
opportunity.

In retrospect those attacks by the wildly fluttering and
airborne Starlings seem a bit comical, but when it was happening
it was quite an eyeful for me to silently observe and mindful
for me to understand and digest. Especially on days when the
Starlings had a glint in their eye that bordered on the evil
and a body language and demeanour that indicated a total
siege mentality.

For all I (or you) know probably the junction box was a nest
for these Starlings and the squirrels had moved in without
permission. However as you can very well guess, I was totally
rooting for them and completely biased towards them, and even
joined the battle on the rare occasion when (as if to break the
siege, the squirrels would emerge one by one and slither down
the pole, quickfoot; to forage) an airborne Starling seemed
close enough to hurt one of the squirrels.

I mean I would shoo away the Starling.

The attacks stopped after a while and (having shot gazillions
of squirrel photos) I ventured onto focusing on other
"wildlife", namely birds of the feathered variety, ranging
around my place barefeet and cycle-borne. And getting capture
after capture of Sunbirds, Little Egrets, Great Blue Herons,
Great White Herons, Cormorants and so on..

The Deeksha ended, life became a bit more laid back (in terms
of getting up in the mornings) a bit more caught up with this
and that and then with the first hint of rains, I discovered
that the camera and lens combo I have is good to take pics
of butterflies too.

So you can very well guess what I have been busy with these
last three months, in terms of being creative that is, when
not writing poetry that is.

Yet, all this while not a single day has passed without a
sighting of one of the little fellows; either shooting the
breeze on the junction box, or in a clump of Lantana (seems
squirrels eat both the flowers and the ripe berries)
or -- in a very mock navigatorish pose -- perched atop
the pole surveying the horizons for tidings of the weather.

And yes, I have also been taking the odd squirrel picture
here and there between captures of Common Roses and Blue
Pansies and Mottled Emigrants.

These little fellows are of course cautious to a fault
or it must be that my dark visage and bearded face makes
me look like a thundercloud. Whatever it be, at the very
most we are neighbours and I have not been anything more
than a very curious observer of squirreldom. Which means
(though I agonized about what they eat) I did not stuff
down almonds or peanuts or whatnots into the junction box
or requisition a thumb sized AC for them to deal with the
heat of May and June.

But then, two days back something happened that has
changed the equation.

On Friday evening, the cable repairmen came and got
around to doing what cable repairmen do; with a nice
big ladder propped on the pole. The first I came to know
about this domesticus interreptus happening in
squirreldom was when I saw the junction box totally opened,
the lid hanging down, a cable repairman perched on the
ladder near it and another down below peering at the ground.
As if hunting for a coin that had fallen there.

I really have no idea of how much I bristled. I also did
not knee the repairman where it hurts a lot. I just asked
if they saw any squirrels. And I was told that a couple of
them bounded out and away. So what were they searching for
then? Enlightenment struck me when I noticed what looked
like matted brown hair on the ground below. And I
realised I was looking at a nest of squirrel fur!

Were there any baby squirrels? Oh, yes, three of them, a
bit littler than my little finger with lizardly tails,
curled up and looking as defenceless as three coccineas,
but for the three stripes on their backs...

The cable repairmen seemed to be nice guys, as considerate
as me and concerned about keeping the squirrels alive. So I
did not have to resort to any story-telling about their
lineage and refer to Lord Shiva or anything. Yet, the question
that was evidently top of mind for all of us homo sapiens now
was, "What to do?"

The cable repairman was of the opinion that the nest
could be left on the ground and that the squirrels will
come and claim their own once we all left. But, I could
think of half a dozen species including snakes, geckos,
cats, dogs and bandicoots who could make morsels out of
the baby squirrels. So leaving the nest on the ground was
ruled out and I ran home and got a shoebox. The nest fitted
snugly into the shoebox and I could have said bye to the
cable repairmen, taken the shoebox home, punched some
ventilation holes into it and then left for a drink.

But, wait, wait...I did not know what grown up
squirrels eat, what in the blazes would I feed these
thumbelina sized mites? And evidently they were still
suckling...would the mother squirrel visit my home and
feed them?

Would Pakistan give us Kashmir back?

So that ruled out the shoebox too.

Thus, only one option was left.

Put the nest back into the junction box and hope
that the squirrels would get back and take care of
their own. So, the cable repairmen did just that and
left. And I looked up at the junction box, then a bit
more upwards at the heavens and (as it was getting
dark and I was getting thirsty) went in search for
that drink.

For most of Friday evening the thought at the back
of my head was -- will the squirrels return back?

For most of Saturday morning, I had a hangover of
the same thoughts worrying my being.

Till I saw a familiar sight -- on Saturday
afternoon -- the right revered Squire Squirrel of
the lineage blessed by the son of Dashratha himself,
quickfooting it down the electric pole.

Dunno which squirrel it was, mother, father, uncle,
whoever...but it was a squirrel and it was moving
with more or less squirrely matter of factness.

Oh joy!

Sunday brought some more sightings and I have seen
the fellows busy with affairs of squirreldom today
too.

Which means that either they have gone back to the
junction box, or they have moved somewhere close by. Which
more importantly means that the thumbelina squirrels are
(in all probability)being taken care of by Mama Squirrel.

And I will be peering closely at the junction box, for
some more time to come. Hoping to see the thumbelinas
make an appearance at the "door" soon.

Okay, go ahead have a laugh on me, the big bad biker, the
intense poet sounding like a godfather.

But also wish me, that my own menagerie of all things
small and beautiful and wild will still (hopefully) continue
to include a dray of squirrels.

In addition to three goldfish at home, the birds and the
butterflies.