Brain-sick's Diary #2 >> If I were a Bird

It has been harsh these days. Weather has been behaving strangely. The sun is shy to come out, and has lost somewhere. Probably it has its own chores to sort out. I can see how the clouds have been troubling him. And there has been rain which was not anticipated, at least not at this time of year. Flowers in my garden, with feeble colors on their petals, are showing their miseries. I can do nothing other than watching them wither in cold. It pains to watch them die; flowers I had gardened with all my care.

Even the birds have migrated. Who is going to look after their homes now? I watch them fly together, flapping their wings slowly in distant sky, sometimes showing up, sometimes hiding behind clouds. Among the flock, I try to find the one, who is lonely. It may be because I want someone to resemble me. I look for my existence in them. The bad side of me, and a little good in me, I appraise each one minutely. In books, I read, living life with too much care and precautions is certainly not a good lifestyle. We should be carefree, and joyous. We should never look back in the long race we are running in. These are what books on ‘Art of Living’ say.


Running a Race? Carelessly? I can’t conjugate these two entities together. May be, I could not get into the essential meaning what the books inferred. However, I refer to lively examples, and want to figure out reasons, why something is happening in that very way. I want to know, how do birds live so freely?

Once, one of my dearest friend told me - ‘A person we consider to be wrong, might not be so; Its instances which were wrong, where the person was struck in. And consequences of those instances have made us judgemental’. This statement has touched me deep down and deep.  May be birds are also struck in instances which have made them forget of their belongings.

Shall I count Love as a ‘consequence’ of one such Instance? Probably I should. I have been consistently seeing such instances, which exemplify my entailment. Getting close, moving apart, they are all consequences of something that we got to see.
Human heart is the tenderest, and the sternest organ. Judge my words Philosophically, Scientifically or by looking back in your life, I assume you will affirm to my statement to some extent.

Looking through my window, I am preparing myself to garden my flowers again. Life is a garden itself, and we are the gardeners.
I have decided that I won’t touch nests of birds on trees in my garden. May be birds will come back again, once the winter is over. But who can ensure, persons who receded will ever come back to us?

I wish, if I were a bird; I could be careless, free, and joyous.

/*Images in this post have been picked up from Google Images Search*/