The Pigeon

There’s a pigeon who has laid eggs outside the window of my bathroom. Every time I open the door of the bathroom, no matter how quietly, she gets disturbed. I feel bad, acutely. When I was shown into this room Dheeraj told me they noticed the eggs for the first time when they came back from Diwali break, and they didn’t have the heart to push them out. Every time the pigeon flutters in alarm and walks away from her eggs I feel an ache in my heart. I know how the pigeon feels. I don’t want to be responsible for its fear, I want it to know her eggs are safe.

This morning I saw the eggs had hatched and there are two tiny yellow chicks sitting in the nest. They show none of the fear and wariness of the mother. I can understand that too. I find myself trying to communicate with the pigeon telepathically – your children are safe; your fear, unnecessary.

Maybe there is a lesson in this for me too.

There are about 60 students who have come from all over India. I met a girl I’ve attended another workshop with in Bangalore. We took turns taking pictures of each other in the practice hall, it’s her first time here. The practice hall itself is just like before. The energy is palpable. The asanas I practice at home gain new meaning here.

The institute had arranged for us to have lunch. Over lunch Abhijata asks me about Kalindi. I tell her that I probably miss her more than she misses me. Abhijata nods.

I think of the pigeon again.