Long-legs and Broken-tail

Long-legs shares NF2-23 with the four of us. She has been our flat mate from day one and has been working on her nest even before me and my flat mates had invaded NF-2 23. She is a bit cautious these days. At the sound of slightest movement in our hall Long-leg scurries on the window ledge between the glass pane and the inner netting. Her movement has the grace and finesse of a ballerina and it is not hard to see why any male worth his feather would not fall for her charm. Long-legs beauty quotient is further enhanced by her yellow rimmed inquisitive eyes that stand out starkly against the shine of her dark brown plume.

The reason for her tetchiness is the five turquoise colored eggs she had laid on the window sill on the heap of dried twigs and plastic scraps. The eggs look and feel more like the smooth pebbles kids bring home after a trip to the beach. I am waiting, like a good neighbor, for the day the tiny ones push their heads out of the shell.

My room in 23-C is a bit bigger than that of Van Gogh’s room at Arles. However, it has the same Spartan feel to it – bed, chair, table and window. My window has blinds on it though. Behind the window blinds stays my room mate Broken-tail. Broken-tail comes out of his den every evening between 7 to 7:30 PM and runs a mini discovery croc show on the wall under the light. He chomps on anything and everything from the buffet of insects that converges under the light in my room. At times he chases some struggling creepy crawly just for wearing it out then wriggles outs it tongue to curl it in. In the absence of any competition, Broken-tail is at the top of the food pyramid in my room’s ecosystem. I imagine Broken-tail had eliminated his last living adversary in an epic Armageddon and in the process had to part with only half his tail. Fortunately, our food chains do not intersect.

Broken-tail is big time into telepathy. He keeps his antennas ready for any signs of my academic deviation. He has this supernatural ability to read my mind and usually chuckles, actually quite hard, with the aim to coerce me back into studying. It happens quite often that when plodding neck deep in numbers and theories to prepare for an early morning quiz, I oscillate in and out of dream sequences. Just when I have sailed too far, Broken-tail would chuckle “Tchk..tchk….tchk….” until I relent . I am forced to leave my half finished bottle of beer on the corner table of Arch Street Tavern and walk out of my nebulous miasma. I am grateful to Broken-tail for damping the wild amplitudes of my dreamy oscillations. I know he would hate to see me flunk.

I am not sure if the door in Van Gogh’s room opened to a balcony. Well, mine does. Just as you step onto the layer of dried yellow petals and brown leaves into a crisp morning, a gentle breeze would ruffle your hair. The bird with the shiny blue Mohawk tuft, perched on a branch , coos tantalizingly just outside my second floor balcony. You might look down to catch Macavity stealthily tip toeing his way through the patches of sun and shade to pounce on an unsuspecting rodent. Lift your gaze to the left and you will see the morning breeze rippling through the paddy fields. For a split second you wish you were on holiday at IIMC.

Before I end this blog, I wish Long-legs happy mommydom and wish that Broken-tail grows back his tail before term 2. Tchk tchk tchk….yeah I know I have a quiz tomorrow. So long.

NB: I am very happy to let you know that as I was typing the above post, 2 pinkish punks had emerged out. Long-legs is eagerly waiting for three more to pop out.