Bulbuls in my life
I have a history with bulbuls
My Belgian father collected birds,
built luxurious condos for his darlings
complete with trees for them to perch
and shrubbery to hide in
or build a nest
if they so desired
After work he spent so much time there
I resented the tiny creatures –
“those dumb birds” he seemed to like
better than his family
The bulbuls, though, were a different story
They had so much personality
they charmed even me
The bulbuls sat on his shoulder
and chattered in his ear
They even came to me when I put
my finger through the chicken wire
and a mischievous one snatched
my baby sister’s pacifier
right out of her mouth
Yesterday through the open balcony door
I heard a familiar chatter,
alternated every now and then
with a short, sweet, melody…
Here in Al Ain, a bulbul couple acting
as if they wanted to come inside
and live with me!
They reminded me of the red-vented bulbuls
in my fig tree in Bhopal
but the striking thing about them was
the white patches on both “cheeks”
On a whim I googled “white cheek bulbul”
and there they were! “Also known as Iraqi bulbuls,
highly intelligent and popular pets in Iraq”
I just stood mesmerized, watching them,
thinking of a dear Chaldean friend
My daughter asked: Could it
be a message from my grandpa?
Longing for their return
I put out some fruit for them today
They didn’t show, but I’ll keep hoping.
See my other bulbul poem
