<p>The one-storied stone structure in the outskirts of the town was my office cum residence. Its balcony, with a neem tree by the side, gave a panoramic view of the nearby canal and the hills beyond. To enjoy this idyllic set up, I soon got married. My colleagues teased me that my first posting as a police officer was ‘honeymoon’ posting.<br /><br />One week after coming home, my wife woke me up from sleep with a start and pointed out a flying object. I switched on the lights to see a bat flying in all directions. I summoned my security guard who casually explained that the bat is a frequent visitor and is indeed harmless.<br /><br />After he shooed it away, my anxious wife asked, “Aren’t bats entering homes a bad omen?” “That’s why no officer has lived here since a decade,” said the constable. My worried wife spoke to her parents who suggested that we change our residence, and if that weren’t possible, we were asked to perform some rituals. I would have none of it.<br /><br />My wife refused to sleep in the bedroom made inauspicious by the bat and we were forced to use the hall as our bedroom. For the next two months, elders on both sides repeatedly enquired whether there was any mishap at home. We assured them that everything was normal.<br /><br />The next month, while we were enjoying our morning cup of coffee in the balcony, I noticed someone staring at us. It was the round, bright eyes of an owl sitting on the neem tree. The sideways turn of the head and his blinks made him fascinating. My wife was shaken and stirred. She said, “An owl is indeed a terrible omen. In the first year of our marriage and early in your profession, its sight is ominous. Coming close on the heels of the bat’s entry, some misfortune will definitely befall us.”<br /><br />I tried to reassure her. “This is a lovely barn owl. Since our home is in the outskirts of town close to a forest, it is natural for nocturnal creatures to stray. They are harmless birds and don’t bring bad luck”.<br /><br />“You take everything so casually. Did not a chief minister change his car when a crow sat on its bonnet? Did not another CM lose his job when an owl was sighted in his compound? Aren’t they educated and in higher positions? I will not live in this house anymore. I will go to my mother’s house!” she threatened. Assuring her that we will soon change our residence, I bought peace.<br /><br />The elders who heard of the owl were more apprehensive. Their repeated suggestions to perform ceremonies to ward off evil were ignored effectively. However, what everyone feared happened. A week later, the media reported that an MLA whom I had arrested, demanded my immediate suspension and the government assured him of a suitable action. The entire family was on tenterhooks.<br /><br />The action indeed was taken soon. I was promoted as a District SP. As we were shifting residence, I thanked the barn owl, and bid him a fond goodbye.</p>
<p>The one-storied stone structure in the outskirts of the town was my office cum residence. Its balcony, with a neem tree by the side, gave a panoramic view of the nearby canal and the hills beyond. To enjoy this idyllic set up, I soon got married. My colleagues teased me that my first posting as a police officer was ‘honeymoon’ posting.<br /><br />One week after coming home, my wife woke me up from sleep with a start and pointed out a flying object. I switched on the lights to see a bat flying in all directions. I summoned my security guard who casually explained that the bat is a frequent visitor and is indeed harmless.<br /><br />After he shooed it away, my anxious wife asked, “Aren’t bats entering homes a bad omen?” “That’s why no officer has lived here since a decade,” said the constable. My worried wife spoke to her parents who suggested that we change our residence, and if that weren’t possible, we were asked to perform some rituals. I would have none of it.<br /><br />My wife refused to sleep in the bedroom made inauspicious by the bat and we were forced to use the hall as our bedroom. For the next two months, elders on both sides repeatedly enquired whether there was any mishap at home. We assured them that everything was normal.<br /><br />The next month, while we were enjoying our morning cup of coffee in the balcony, I noticed someone staring at us. It was the round, bright eyes of an owl sitting on the neem tree. The sideways turn of the head and his blinks made him fascinating. My wife was shaken and stirred. She said, “An owl is indeed a terrible omen. In the first year of our marriage and early in your profession, its sight is ominous. Coming close on the heels of the bat’s entry, some misfortune will definitely befall us.”<br /><br />I tried to reassure her. “This is a lovely barn owl. Since our home is in the outskirts of town close to a forest, it is natural for nocturnal creatures to stray. They are harmless birds and don’t bring bad luck”.<br /><br />“You take everything so casually. Did not a chief minister change his car when a crow sat on its bonnet? Did not another CM lose his job when an owl was sighted in his compound? Aren’t they educated and in higher positions? I will not live in this house anymore. I will go to my mother’s house!” she threatened. Assuring her that we will soon change our residence, I bought peace.<br /><br />The elders who heard of the owl were more apprehensive. Their repeated suggestions to perform ceremonies to ward off evil were ignored effectively. However, what everyone feared happened. A week later, the media reported that an MLA whom I had arrested, demanded my immediate suspension and the government assured him of a suitable action. The entire family was on tenterhooks.<br /><br />The action indeed was taken soon. I was promoted as a District SP. As we were shifting residence, I thanked the barn owl, and bid him a fond goodbye.</p>
