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There was a dead pigeon in my balcony. And it was hung. 

Too harsh a punishment for defecating in public, don't you think? But it was not hung from the neck, so might not have been the capital punishment. It's wing was stuck in a wire. 

But then how did it die? Bleed to death? But it did not appear so? Did the eagles attack it? May be. Did no one hear its heart wrenching cry? I did not. Apparently it was a death no one noticed and no one cared. Like what's happening quite often now a days. 

In this area flooded with multi story buildings, each one taller than the other, pigeons are the only birds to be seen. Apparently they love tall, majestic buildings for their morning ablutions. Aha, such nice wash rooms, such well maintained! They tell one another. And some times there is food too!

See, I don't have one ounce of sadness for its death. Instead I am trying to crack lame jokes. But do its friends and family say that I have lured the dear bird and then killed it. Will they attack me next time they see me?

 Now when I think about it, why didn't I photograph it? Me, who is hungry for pictures.

The reason could be, I was flabbergasted from this awful situation.