27.3.11 | Post by Anushka.
Y-you've come! I missed you.
Yes. I...Same here.
Here. I got petunias for you. Do you like them?
I do. Thanks. They're pretty.
Look at what?
There, there! Over there!
Aaah. The birds. Beautiful, aren't they?
Um, yeah. Okay. Nothing new. Just a few white birds flying by.
What is there to get so excited about?
I don't know. They're free. Free to soar wherever they want, as high as they want. Free.
And...what in the world is wrong with you? Don't you think, we see this everyday?
The silver silhouettes lifting higher and higher by the minute. Their fragile wings flapping incessantly throughout the day. No rest. No rest. Too busy. Too busy. Yet with almost nothing important to do.
Are you intoxicated by any chance? Did you take something? Are you sleepy? Or are you just too tired to think properly?
The mother bird has a sense of duty. She will come down from her flight. Search for worms. And start flying again, with the worms hanging from her beak. Just to find out, that two of her baby birds have been made food by some evil living thing. Evil.
You've lost your mind.
She will silently mourn over their deaths. But then, after that? Nothing. Life goes on. This is just natural. The whole cycle of being born, living and dying. Dying. Death comes all too soon, and we never realise it.
Birds? Deaths? This is seriously getting on my nerves now. Stop, or I'm leaving.
You didn't just call me here to talk about birds, did you!?
I miss you.
Just as much as the mother bird misses her disappeared infants.
Please don't disappear.
The mother bird disappears.
Leaving her baby birds insecure, to fly and fly and fly, once again. She can never be sure. Whether her little ones will live to see another day. But so? She has to go out there. She is selfish. She needs to fill her stomach. She needs her freedom to fly.
To fly and to fly and to fly. Aimlessly.
But what's the point of it all? Why does she want to separate from her children so bad? I really don't understand. I want to understand. Someone please explain!
Separations kill me. I don't like this. Not one bit. Not one bit...
That's it. I'm out of here. Good bye.
And she leaves. And she separates from me. She said, 'Good bye.'
The silver silhouettes are now leaving too. Separating from me. Leaving me all alone here. They are fading away. Fading away. Flying endlessly.
This endless surge,
and everyday ebb of Life.
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- 2012 (22)
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