I was walking inside my condo last evening when something landed on my head with a painful thwack. I rubbed my head in alarm and found (of all things) a chapati. I might have eaten it. It was nearly dinner time and I was feeling nippish. Whoever says no to a free snack? But the unidentified flying chapati had turned brittle with age and it belonged inside a trash can. So I disposed of it and went to sit in the park outside my block of flats where I had a Newton moment.
In hindsight, it could have been a concussion. The top of my head felt sore and I could feel a bump forming. But in that instance, it seemed as though the Universe was providing some sort of insight into why people fling stale chapatis from their towers at unsuspecting people below. So I closed my eyes and listened intently to what it had to say.
When the Universe started talking in Punjabi, I realized something was not right. I opened one eye to find my neighbour, Mrs Malhotra, on the bench next to me. And she was talking (rather loudly) on the phone with someone. So much for my Newton-esque revelation.
The woman finished her call, dumped her phone inside her bag and turned to me with a smile. “You got hit by a chapati, no? I noticed the lady in the flat above was feeding the birds.”
“Feeding the birds or trying to kill them?” I muttered. “She was flinging the rotis with great force. She could have hurt someone.”
“Arrey don’t be silly,” she giggled. “She’s a bird lover. And the birds love her.”
“How do you know the birds love her? Would you love someone who served you stale food? Besides, are stale chapatis safe for birds to eat? Why not give them some grains or seeds?” I argued. “If you won’t eat something yourself, why give it to birds and animals?”
I’d seen folks feed stale chapatis to cows on the streets plenty of times. At least they were not flinging food but I couldn’t ignore the traffic snarls that ensued.
She shrugged. “The birds don’t have a problem with it."
“How would you know? Have you asked their opinion?” I shot back.
She got up and walked off in a huff. I smiled to myself. She wouldn’t be lecturing me for a while. Never underestimate the power of a flying chapati.
As for Bird Woman in the flat above, I think I’ll pay her a visit with a prezzie. A CD of an Alfred Hitchcock movie and a tale about the real-life incident at Capitola that inspired the film.
I think I should start a movement to make our birds gluten free again. What do you think?
