Whistling Chiyu

Watching house sparrows feed Marie biscuits on the window ledge is more fun than morning walks. By 7 they are at the window queaking, on one count, there were 12, ladies and gents; trying hard to know one from the other; they carry dark marks on their backs and it seems the marks are differently placed for identification; not sure, just a guess; they dont feed if me is anywhere near; the watch is from the far end of the room; with 7-year old Chiyu they are comfortable; she watches, laughs, smiles as they fly in and out; Chiyu got her name from chimni, the Marathi term for house sparrows; Patil drops the newspapers and me puts them away; sometimes an odd crow flies in driving away the sparrows; crows do not stay back allowing the sparrows to feast. An hour goes by, the biscuits are over, the sparrows are off. And it is time for Aji and Ajoba to be on their daily pilgrimage to spend time with Shreya, busy on mobiles and iphones and Chiyu; Aji has to spend time with them and now that they have shifted to a new housing society at Borivili (W), near IC Church, it is less costly by auto; earlier it was Rs.52 to Dahisar and now it is Rs.30 with the savings going into buyng Cadbury Silk. 'I cant explain it but I turn happy, happier, happiest with Shreya and Chiyu around,' says Aji to a nodding Ajoba. Aji and Ajoba are cushy sofas for Shreya and Chiyu. The two take an auto, the driver knows them (most autowallahs in the area say hullo to them, never deny rides), know the address and take the shortest route. It cant be better. This morning, Aji and Ajoba crossed the security at the gates when they heard a soft whistle; turned round; failed to spot the whistler; a second whistle, the same result; they paused at the lift and there was a third whistle, the same result; the security staff were laughing; as the lift doors opened wide, a fourth whistle from near Aji; Aji turned and there was Chiyu, gleaming a toothless laugh; she has lost her front teeth and yet the whistle had a tonal quality reminding Ajoba of the first time sighting a Malabar whistling thrush at Masinagudi. Dear old Salim Ali writes of the bird: 'In breeding season male has a rich and remarkably human whistling song, rambling aimlessly up and down on the scale, whence the bird gets its popular name of Idle Schoolboy.' At Borivili, it is an idle schoolgirl; at the new society, she has many friends and one lady taught her to whistle; she worked on it and now whistle calls Dakhi; most of the time she is at the playground with her friends and her parents can do nothing about it. Well, nobody has a say. At school, when the class was still, into a semester exam for maths, Chiyu whistled; a wondering teacher tried to trace the call; failed at the first attempt but caught up with Chiyu as she was on her third whistle; seemingly, she had finished her maths paper. Mobiles rang and on the appointed afternoon, Dakhi met the class teacher; 'Janayi (Chiyu's school name) whistles in the class and that during exams. What should we do,' asked the teacher. Dakhi breathed hard, never realised Chiyu was more into whistling than maths. 'Sorry,' said Dakhi and she has said many a sorry for Chiyu. Having won three bronze medals for the school in relays, the teacher couldnt do much. A compromise. Chiyu and all kids can whistle during recess and in the school bus; not in the class. Last heard, Chiyu and her friends are happily whistling. Aji is also whistling.