When I stare through my window, in Mumbai, I see a moderate sized guava tree and in that tree lot of birds and bird nests, it’s my favorite pass time to stare through windows and see the birds flying and chirping. When I was a child I used to hear a story from my grand ma in which this little boy knew bird’s language and could understand what they were saying and I used to immediately think that once am bigger I will learn birds’ language. It intrigues me no end to know what they think of us and what stories they have of faraway lands where they come from or migrate to, in summers and winters.
A fascinating little body and pretty little round eyes with those amazing little wings, ah! They are so beautiful. My grand ma used to tell me another story in which she mentioned a cunning bird that used to hide the food from other birds in her squint left eye, and that promptly made me ask my grand ma –“daadi chidiya bhi kya badmash hoti hai”… The little stature can be anything but cunning; I used to think to myself. My curious little mind would often fly high with the birds to the blue skies, beyond the hills and the mountains, by the river…a world of my own and the birds’.
I wish I lived in that guava tree, I wish I could taste the first fruit of my ‘home- tree’ in its season, I wish I could fly my worries away, I wish I could feel the life where there are no boundaries . I wish I was a bird, a bird with fascinating little body, pretty little round eyes and with those Amazing little wings, ah! I would be so beautiful.
