What a Parent’s Fear Sounds Like After the Sirens Fade
After the sirens fade. Monday morning, I peered again. The pigeon’s eggs on my ledge had hatched, two new chicks could be seen, glued to the safety of the wall next to the nest. For the last two weeks, my once-in-the-forenoon routine had been to open the window, peek, say ‘hello’ to mama pigeon as she stared at me with her round, pink-rimmed eyes, and click the window shut, lest she should think of me as a threat. I looked at the phone screen, checking the notifications. One message from a niece’s husband who rarely speaks in the family chat group. Since the news broke, my mind has been walking through buildings my child once knew by heart. I was not thinking of events. I was thinking of fear, how quickly it enters a place we once called safe, and how it refuses to leave a parent’s body. We are a family where many of our children have called Brown University home. Then I saw a message from my son. “The weekend was very tough.’ ‘ Log bahut dukhi hain (People are very sad)...
