Of Goldfish And Pigeons And Guppies

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At my old home I had a little fish pond going in the terrace garden

With guppies and goldfish
And a couple of large grey sucker fish
That would lay motionless
Snuggled into the pebbles at the bottom of the pond
Attempting to look invisible
Amidst some dancing water ferns

I would just sit and stare for hours at the cavorting fish

While eagles and mynahs screeched and chirped from the nearby gulmohar tree

I'd go back into the house for a bit
And on coming back out after a while
Would find

The pigeons had stopped by to drink from the fish pond

And shat all over the terrace... even on the garden table and chairs

Shooing them away...I'd go about hosing the place down
Wiping the table and chairs

To the tune in the background
Of a shaking fist in the air

Loud cursing of them pigeons roundly

Making no bones and leaving no doubt about love for pigeons
In general

And shit
In particular

And words tumbled out in delightful disarray
Colouring the landscape

Singing jingle bells and hallelujah
In the same breath

The sheer transparency
Of a misty breath

Breaching the lips
Kissing dewdrops

Dripping sweet nothings
Into the air

The opaqueness of meaning or non meaning
Melting in the first rays of the sun

And words

Dancing prancing
Through rivulets
Down curled up toes

Barefoot they sang
And gurgled laughter

On a round trip
Around the globe

Circling around
Your own emptiness
And love

Come sit by the golden pond
A wee bit

And look at the gold fish

They're doing their thing

As are the pigeons and doves

And eagles circling overhead

And mynahs and parrots
Sitting in the whistling leaves
Of the gulmohar tree

And you and me

This vibrant colourful ribbon dance


Grunts and groans and lilting songs
Of this and that


Fragrance in the air

Dancing laughter
In the sunshine and rain

Oh sweet melody

Of goldfish and pigeons and guppies