I’m 33 years old, married and pregnant. My regular days are spent going through the daily newspaper, writing and scrolling through my Facebook feed. Since most of my days are spent as a recluse, the only friends I have, whom I physically meet every day, are my cleaner Rama and my neighbour Charu.
Not having many friends gives me a lot of time for myself, which I used to crave earlier. I was working full-time, and at that time, 24 hours in a day didn’t seem enough.
I enjoy the ‘me time’ a lot. The only me time that I haven’t been able to master is eating by myself. When I was young, my mother always said that eating together makes you stronger.
I’ve been eating alone for a while now and been gaining weight. Stronger, I don’t know, but bigger, yes. Eating alone is not an enjoyable activity. The food doesn’t taste good. It tires me to fix a plate, microwave the food and sit on my dining table, only to eat alone. Lunch time is the time I wish I’d have someone around.
It was around two in the afternoon when I was in the kitchen, fixing a meal for myself. I noticed some pigeons outside the window that looked beautiful and hungry. I hadn’t met so many souls at one place in a long time, it was unsettling. I opened the casserole and carefully placed two pieces of roti on the window sill. They dived into the food like children during their lunch breaks at school. Also, I made lunch friends.
I’ve been bouncing around with joy, because I finally have someone to keep me company for lunch. However, one day I noticed a board outside my residence. It read:“We request all occupants of this building to refrain from feeding pigeons, as doing so allows pigeons to stay within our building premises...Your cooperation will be appreciated”.
I don’t know which route to take, follow the rules or my heart?
- The reader is a writer and a voice over artist based in Dubai.
