An adult, grey, and beautiful pigeon sits on a balcony visible from my room. The balcony is one floor higher than mine, whose shorter side faces my balcony. I sit and work close to my balcony, inside my room, where my desk and chair are greeted with solid sunshine each morning. While I pay rent to stay in my room, pigeons live rent-free here. I see them all day, from my chair, flying in all directions, drinking water from the swimming pool, and diving from the terrace straight towards the ground. Now that so many days have passed, I inadvertently ignore them as they have become a part of my daily life.
For more than a year, the balcony on the upper floor, which I mentioned above, has not been lonely. I say lonely because I have never seen any human on that balcony. Just some ropes and a pipe stay there, lonely and forgotten by their masters. The balcony doesn't speak to me, else I would have given her company every day. We are too close to hear each other, even if we talk in a normal tone. But now, a pigeon has found solace in between those pipes and ropes and proudly announces it to be his home. He has found a hole in the balcony net for which he considers himself lucky. I don't know whether the balcony speaks to the pigeon or not, but the pigeon doesn't care. He speaks constantly, alone, in the hope that one day he will hear a response.
Now that he has found his home, he comes there every day at around noon and sits there for a couple of hours. It's as if he is telling what he did and saw throughout the day, to the pipe and the rope, and the balcony, of course, because he knows he is the lucky one among all of them. Only he can move and see this beautiful world, while everything else has to see my face. Slowly, slowly, his friends got to know his secret place. Or maybe he told them by himself. But after the initial three months, he doesn't come alone. It's him and his one or two friends who now play on the balcony. They catch each other, flying inside out of the hole at high speed and then coming back again. Now the chatter has started to become louder and for much more time than usual. Their playful actions have increased the hole size millimeter by millimeter with each passing day.
A few months later, one day, the pigeon welcomes his relatives. A lot of pigeons have appeared on the balcony. Probably four or five. I have never seen more than three, but that was extremely rare. Just like any other relative, they have a lot of family gossip to pass to him, and they expect the same from him as well. Have you noticed how gradually the sounds of this gossip start becoming louder and louder? Piegoens are no different. Today, all I hear is the sound of them flying inside the balcony and constant chatter. I am assuming they are very happy. The pigeon must have bragged about his place and must have introduced them to the pipe and rope, who doesn't speak much. Then, when the sun starts to settle down, they all leave. I assume the pigeon must have gone to the atmospheric station to see them off, from where the winds will take them to their own home.
The next afternoon, the pigeon is alone again. But he is not speaking today. He is sitting on the balcony and just looking outside. I am doing the same from my balcony and looking at him. Generally, each day I would notice when he comes and goes because he is always chattering alone when he is there, and it's complete silence when he isn't. Today, I don't notice his arrival or departure. It's unusual for me, I must say. But the next morning is even more unusual. For more than one year, I have been noticing the balcony; for the first time, I see a human in it. The balcony gate slides open, whose sound falls into my right ear, and I look at it instantly. A man appears slowly from inside like Neil Armstrong arriving on the moon. Dusty moon to put down his first shoe print on it. Oh wait! He is not someone who lives there. Looks like a handyman as I see tools stuck inside his brown trousers, one in the front and one in the back, and a net loaded up on his shoulder. My heart sank a little bit. I gave myself false hope that the net is not for the balcony, and he is just here to get some stuff. I looked at the balcony as he slowly took out the old net from all ends. Then, he started to tighten up the new net in its place. He was done in less than 30 minutes with his job. I thought about the pigeon, and it is just disheartening.
In the afternoon, the pigeon returned only to find out that his balcony had been taken away from him. He stood outside on the edge of the balcony, thinking about the happy days he spent there, while I looked at him, thinking that he is a pigeon and they know how tear up the balcony nets. But I was wrong. A week passed, and the pigeon would come at the same time to the same place, but could not enter the balcony. Earlier, his friend joined him, but now he comes alone and sits there as he would do earlier. He doesn't chatter like before. I wish I could understand and console him for that.
Twenty days pass by with the same routine. Each afternoon, he is there, silent in his own thoughts. That day, I got a text on the society group about a person asking for spare newspapers. The flat mentioned is in the same block where I live. It doesn't come to my mind until evening when I opened the group again, and it suddenly prompts me that the flat is just one floor above me. I went to my balcony and calculated the address of the flat where that balcony is. It is the same address as mentioned in the group. The lady who messaged lives in the same flat!! I texted her personally, "Hey! I have spare newspapers. How many do you want?"
"Around 20 would do", she replied within seconds, as she must be waiting for someone to respond.
"What is your flat number? I can come and pick up", the message continued.
"I live just one floor below on the same block. It's alright, I will come with the newspapers. If you are available now, I can come right now," I said.
"Sure. Yeah. I am in the flat. Thank you very much," she said.
I went to the hall and counted twenty newspapers, which were stacked in reverse chronological order (today's on the top) as they are in any other house. I throw five, six more just in case. Then, I go to the kitchen, open the drawer, and take the knife out. Put it in my back pocket, pick up the papers, close the gate, and go upstairs.
"Hey! Harish," I said rather abruptly. She understood by seeing the newspapers in my hand.
"Hey. Thank you very much! Thank you, thank you," she said excitedly.
"Are you doing some painting?" I asked.
"Oh! No No! I am teaching some kids to cut paper to make different shapes. Can't do it on expensive origami papers."
"Really? Like small kids?"
"Yeah. Come look, they are sitting here."
I went inside. The balcony door is just in front of me. It is dusty and looks like nobody opens it.
"Wow! I thought you were teaching simple shapes. These are complex!!" I coughed intentionally.
"Yeah. Nobody would pay for that."
I coughed again.
"Do you need water?" she asked.
"Yes, please. Thanks."
She goes inside her kitchen when I say. "I live just one floor below your flat. I think I can see it from your balcony."
"Really?" she asks surprisingly.
"Yeah!" I said and moved towards the balcony. I slid open the door and went right outside the view from the kitchen. I see behind me, nobody's there. I take out the knife, put it in between the squares of the net, and drag it on two threads simultaneously in a quick action at a corner. Nobody would notice it. At this time, she comes, and I anxiously point towards my balcony.
"That's my room!" I said.
She doesn't look towards the room. She looks at the knife in my hand.
"Oh! It was lying here on the ground."
"Really? I don't know whose it is. Nobody comes here. Maybe someone left it here."
She takes the knife from my hand, and I take the glass from hers. I drank water and went back to my room. Now I just sit here and wait for the afternoon the next day.
I woke up excited the next day. I looked at the balcony, and nobody was there. I do my work, but my focus is on the balcony. My ears are alert. A couple of hours pass by when I hear the sound of a wing flapping. The pigeon is there. But it is still sitting at the edge of the balcony. I come out to my balcony and look at it. He is still sitting there and doesn't move. A few minutes later, he walks on the edge towards the area which I cut. He is just outside it. I can't believe he is so close. He turns back towards the balcony, puts his head inside the net hole, and passes through. He jerks his head and flies onto the balcony in excitement. I smile, looking at all this. He has again united with his beloved balcony and the pipe and the rope to which he would talk. Today, he is chatty like all the days before. I am happy that he did not give up on the balcony, and honestly, neither did I. I hope his friends return soon. I come back to my room and go out to drink some water.
In the hall, I see my flatmate. He is making lemon water for himself and cutting the lemon. He asks, did newspaper come today? I said, "Yes." He went to the newspaper pile, took today's and yesterday's newspaper and went inside his room.
Harish
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