Pigeon at the window
Rustom opened one of this eyes to see who is entering his room without knocking. The maid came in. She saw Rustom and his girlfriend, Nerya, cuddled up together on the mattress. Rustom thought she would feel embarassed and leave. But she didn’t. She started brooming the room and in two minutes she left.
Rustom never bought a cot, whichever house he lived in. He always placed his mattress on the floor. He did not like hanging his legs while sitting on the cot.
He was hungry but decided to go back to sleep. He kissed Nerya’s left eye. He felt her warmer than usual. He did not bother to check if she was running a fever. He just went back to sleep.
An hour later, Nerya woke up. She went to the kitchen and brought back two cups of Nescafe, a bread packet and Nutella. She woke him up.
Rustom took a sip of coffee and started spreading Nutella on a bread slice. His flat was on the 13th floor and the bedroom had French windows. A yellowish-grey pigeon perched at the window sill of his room. Spreading Nutella evenly on the bread slice, he was noticing the peculiar way the pigeon was turning its head — like a 70’s robot that lacked smoothness in the movement of its limbs. He observed that the pigeon’s head turned in the same direction as he moved the knife over the bread slice. His hand moved left and the pigeon’s head turned left. He was doing this again and again, left and right, and went into kind of a trance.
“I want to tell you something”, Nerya interrupted his magical animal-connection moment. This moment comes in almost all relationships. The guy usually becomes alert and tunes up his sensory organs at a high level.
“What is it?”, Rustom asked.
“Nothing. How do you like the coffee?”
“It’s too good. Tell me, what is it?”
“Do you get dreams?”, she asked.
“Very rarely. And I usually don’t remember what I dream”, he said.
“Tell me, what did you want to say?”, he asked her again.
“I get dreams.”
“That’s normal. Was it a nightmare that you had last night?”. He felt relieved supposing that the issue is not something related to him.
“No, I get weird dreams. Like…”
“It has been happening ever since we first made love. And, it happens everytime we have sex. I get dreams of making out with other guys — my friends, your friends and few others whom I vaguely recognise.”, she poured all her heart out in a go and looked at his eyes.
Helpless in identifying what to feel and say to her, he started eating the bread and went on to look at the pigeon. Now, its head turned up and down every time Rustom opened and closed his mouth to chew the bread.