Solitary Sleeper

This winter we've had a strange 

"almost-companion" as we sleep. 

One solitary pigeon sleeps on top of  the split air-conditioner's connecting pipe. 

Sleeping there is bad enough, since it also tends to excrete just below its perch. 

More than that, though, is the problem I face when our feathered neighbour suffers from insomnia. 

Why wouldn't it, considering the ridiculous size of its sleeping perch? 

The insomniac pigeon makes the weirdest of sounds, like horses galloping on gravel.

The occasional change in position I can understand, but when my actual bed-mate snores, and the 

insomniac pigeon scratches and scrapes on its perch, it renders me insomniac too. Perhaps it sleeps 

too early: roosting about half an hour before sundown means a very long night.

And why are you all alone, Pigeon? 

                                          The rest of the enormous pigeon population that occupies our apartment 

complex seems to believe in couple-dom and family life, billing and cooing in the building shafts 

and the ledges of bathroom windows.

Are you lonely, Pigeon?

Did someone break your heart?

I can only let you sleep on the a/c pipe, undisturbed...

January vanished!

The older son and his family were coming home, the younger granddaughter for the very first time.
The older one knows us well now, thanks to Skype calls as well as our recent visit when her baby sister was born.
Jet lagged babies and preschoolers make for mega jet-lagged parents! Parents who had a lot of work to do, ASAP. That included finding an apartment for a year, setting it up, finding suitable help, a school for the older child, air purifiers ( a necessity in Delhi), kitchen ware, bed linen, bank accounts, WiFi etc.
Parents and sisters and friends dug into their stocks, the visiting children found the household helper who had worked for them before, and now seem to be settling into their lives here. The older child, an extremely articulate almost four-year old, isn't really convinced as to why they have left her green house in XXXX city and come here. She is, fortunately, liking her new school, and we hope she will be comfortable in her year here. She is a great fan of parathas, and enjoyed rolling out rotis in her Dadi's kitchen!

The baby has finally figured out day and night, thankfully. This grandmother loved taking her out for walks in her stroller, when this tiny person, all of 4 1/2 months, expressed her joy by merrily kicking away as we walked. She expressed, to my grandmaternal heart, great intelligence in one of our early interactions. I held her in my arms, giving her a bottle of milk. The young lady would stop sucking and cry every time I looked at her, so the first time I fed her here was by holding her close, without making eye contact with her! Seemed like early stranger anxiety, finally eased by the comfort of a full belly. On her last day in my care, she had been fed, changed, and left to play on the floor while I tried to pack up some of her big sister's toys in another room. After a few minutes on her own, there is an imperious yell from Her Tiny Majesty, summoning her attendant minion! The poor little thing is teething, so I have been drooled on and chewed upon, with great joy, I may add. I've also been haunted by the tunes of her Play Gym, which were an almost constant accompaniment to her waking hours. We had days of sunshine, oil massages and happy kicking little legs...
While trying to entertain the older child, I remembered something my brother used to sing to me when I was a child: I Tawt I Taw a Puddy Tat. Simple enough to locate it on the 'Net. So my brain was a happy mush of Puddy Tat and Alouette (from the Play Gym) and the endless nonsense songs that emerge in the company of babies!
 Incoherent, but happy that at least our precious grandchildren are just a not-too-long drive away (depending on Delhi's traffic, of course).