Bigdi Amma didn’t know what to do with the pigeons. All her ruses and tricks were proving ineffective. Each would work a few days, some even weeks, and a few even for months. But eventually, the pigeons would learn to work their way around them all. And as newer, younger, pigeons flew in with the older ones, they would come trained. How, she would never know. Because the pigeons didn’t live where she sat with her sacks of grains opened and the grains set out in mounds to attract the regulars and tourists alike. The pigeons came from some place behind all those amaltas trees that surrounded this part of the city and gave the place its wide open look. The pigeons that flew in with the promise of easy pickings had been fed on a regular diet of millets, cracked corn, sorghum and wheat that Bigdi Amma had been selling for years ever since she left her husband and his family in the village far away. Now all the grains she sold were the ones that she had seen being cultivated in her youth; grains that had fed her then, were feeding her now.
A Seven Course French Meal
It starts off with le hors-d’œuvre also called l’entrée. These are appetizers at the beginning of the meal. The word ‘entrée ’ means entrance…