HYDERABAD: You must have seen squirrels in Hyderabad, darting up trees and scurrying around parks, but you’ve probably never crossed paths with them in a memorable way. That’s because squirrels are the introverts of the animal kingdom (I admit, this is an unscientific guess, but just go with it). There are as many squirrels as there are trees in this city, yet you’ll never find a single news report about someone hitting a squirrel or a squirrel causing trouble. It’s like they’ve mastered the art of living quietly in the background.
Dogs might be called man’s best friend, but let’s be honest, they’re high-maintenance friends. We feed them, pet them, and even sterilise them (without bothering to check if they’re okay with it). In return, we get the occasional 2 am group chase, where the neighbourhood dogs act like you personally sanctioned their surgery. Dogs demand attention like a social media influencer — constantly in your face, begging for likes (or in this case, biscuits). But squirrels? They never show up with those puppy-dog eyes that make you feel guilty. They wait respectfully for you to leave before they consider nibbling on your leftovers. No emotional blackmail involved.
Let’s talk about pigeons — those uninvited tenants who treat my balcony like their in-laws’ house. They’re always cooing away, laying eggs, and acting like they’ve booked a long-term Airbnb stay. Meanwhile, squirrels respect boundaries.
You’ll never find one sneaking into your kitchen or making itself at home on your windowsill. Even during a famine, squirrels would rather stash their nuts than raid your snack cupboard. If pigeons are the noisy neighbours who refuse to leave, squirrels are the quiet roommates who clean up after themselves.
These little guys are the original eco-warriors of Hyderabad. Squirrels are known for burying nuts and then forgetting about them, effectively planting new trees and adding to the city’s green cover. It’s like they’re running their own silent afforestation programme. Pigeons, on the other hand, can’t even remember where they left their last egg. I’d take a squirrel over a pigeon any day — at least they’re contributing something to the environment instead of just turning my AC vent into a maternity ward.
Hyderabadis could learn a lot from squirrels, especially when it comes to personal space. Ever tried taking a morning walk in KBR Park? It’s like running a gauntlet of sweaty uncles discussing politics loudly on their phones.
Squirrels, on the other hand, dart past you with ninja-like agility. They don’t make any sound, and even if they do, it’s so quiet that it feels like an ear exercise trying to locate it. Imagine a world where people were as respectful of your space as squirrels — no more awkward shoulder rubs or unsolicited phone calls in public.
In a city of over-sharers — from dogs oversharing their midnight thoughts to pigeons acting like your balcony is their penthouse — squirrels are the polite introverts who never intrude. They’re zen like a yogi, green like an eco-warrior, and classy like a gentleman; if Hyderabad needed a mascot, it shouldn’t be a loud tiger but the quiet, unassuming squirrel who minds its own (nutty) business.
(The writer’s views are his own)