A Robin

Sitting in my studio, a sweet screech very close to me made me look around, something fluttering in the dark, a bird, robin, the black and white one. It hopped around, singing, then went quiet. I am happy to have it, as a proud host I want to do everything to make it stay as long as possible, to also maybe preserve a proof of a visit of such an unusual guest. He seemed oblivious and into himself. He hopped on the table, then on the chair and onto the projector, while I strategised the best way to switch on the lights across the room, turn on my camera and get a pic of it. I switched on the lights successfully. As I pointed the camera at it, it flew away. I kept the camera back.

From my desk I could hear faint chirps from the bluish trees outside. I walked up to the window and looked out, bent a little further, felt as if I entered this completely new world, like I was entering the robin’s territory, I said softly, “Come back.” It was chirping in the dark somewhere, I could hear it.

I went to my desk and it came flying back, just outside the window sill, still in the wilderness, it looked at me keenly, then hopped inside and flew towards the projector and perched on it.

Projector seemed to be its favourite spot. It sat there for a long time, pruning itself, fluffing up. I was observing it and said, “Hi”, it noticed for a while and then went back to its ritual. There was a heavy wind hustling outside, I thought maybe it likes this space, it must be very cold outside. Then a window rang shut. Few minutes before this, a thought had passed my mind, I wanted to take a photo or a video of the robin and for that I could shut the window so that it cannot escape. But maybe the bird would fret out, look how comfortable and at home it is now. And if it frets out, the whole point is lost, the thing dancing between us, right here, is gone. The window whamming shut because of the wind reminded me of this. I got up and opened the window, latched it so that it does not shut against the wind. Robin after sometime, flew towards the window, standing at the sill, looked outside, then looked at me, maybe ascertaining that it can fly out whenever it wants to. It flew back towards the projector.

Maybe it likes sitting on the projector because of the vantage point. I sat doing my work, and he sat doing his. He flew over my head once, glimpsing at what I was doing, resting on a chair in front of me. As close as it gets. It looked at me, taking full note of me for the first time. It was mapping the room and mapping me as well, it felt. It went back to its comfort spot and had a nap I think.

After sometime, it just hopped out of the window, flinching its tail and flew into the night.