Of a girl and a bird…

The girl.
If one were to capture a panoramic view from where she stood and saw the birds go about in their daily chores, three-fourths of the captured image would be filled up with tall multi-storeyed buildings, full of people, working inside them. The remaining quarter would show something that now resembles a hill. Atop this hill, especially at the hours she spent looking towards it, there are people, busy taking care of the garbage that the city produces, dumping it on the hill, and then using the bulldozer to flatten the area by laying the soil over it. And then this would be repeated daily like an automated piece of code. Reassuring that anything related to man – as trivial as the waste – ultimately goes to the soil, and is rendered inseparable from his fellow humans. It seemed so contrasting, their working conditions – hers and the people working at some distance.
She’d stand by the window pane for sometime daily looking into the distance, trying to identify someone from the previous day, but from a distance, it is really hard to figure out anything clearly. And this vagueness, and her inability to identify people from yesterday or the day before it, though these people were strangers, made her question her own ability in certain ways.

The bird.
From where it saw, and if one took a mere picture of the view it saw daily, one could see at least five dozens of ‘resources’ with their noses buried into the computers, some busy coding, and others supporting the mess that some code produced every now and then. It’d come daily to witness this jamboree of people. Flying all the way from its home, it’d rest atop the slab by the window-pane and then peep into a hall full of IT professionals. Sitting there, its head tilted at just the right angle making its beak more prominent than ever, it bore a semblance of a manager overlooking the entire project. Perhaps even judging them, but for her, it always looked as if it was pitying her and all the others she worked along with. And so whenever they came face to face, separated by the pane, and she looked into its eyes, and on rarer occasions when she managed to get its stare back, she always ended up feeling sad for herself. Between a human and a bird, the freedom, in ways more than one, always eludes humans.

Two worlds separated by a window.
And now, when she stands and looks into the distant hills, she seldom feels sorry for the people working on the hill. She just keeps standing there, throwing occasional glances on the hill and then on some distant tree. But above all, she keeps waiting for the bird to come and accompany her. Two facades of a window pane offered so much and so different to the two parties, and the bird was never hopeless in her or any of those who worked with her, around her. Then why should she be? In herself or in anyone who worked on the hill. The bird was the hope from the freer side of the window. And, she’d resume her work after this brief hiatus.

The image has been downloaded from a photo blog without any prior consent. In return, the blog has been written in the third person, with the photoblogger being the protagonist.

Web link that’d take you straight to the aforementionedย photo Blog

47 thoughts on “Of a girl and a bird…

Add yours

    1. Thank you so much. It was waiting to be jotted down for quite some time now. Besides, the photo, taken by someone really close to me and who happens to share the same workplace left no choice than writing it today. I am happy you liked it.


  1. Throughout many mythologies, birds — creatures who occupy the space between heaven and earth — are considered “messengers of the gods”…and idea that appeals to me, enormously. I enjoyed reading this ๐Ÿ™‚


    1. Hello Carrie, your comment provided me with so much to ponder over. It also sounds logical. A bird is indicative of so much, its size notwithstanding. I shall whenever time permits me to read all about the ‘messengers of gods’ theory and all I could possiblyโ€‹ find in context to it. Thank you for your time, I am happy you liked the post.


    1. The feeling is absolutely mutual Parikhit. I was on a lookout for some long-form writers, and serendipitously I stumbled across your blog site the other night. I am still amazed by the accuracy with which you draw images of nature. Keep writing and reading.
      Also, please do add a follow button to your site (I know there must already be one, in that case, do let me know how can I follow you back. I don’t know but this WordPress site gives me a hard time every single time I stumble across someone worth following).
      Have a good day.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you so much Akarsh! That means a lot to me ๐Ÿ™‚ I guess growing up in a small town has its perks of being close to nature, observing, learning.

        I do know there is a follow button, that I usually see at the top or the side ๐Ÿ˜€


      2. Same story on this side – from a town so small that you can’t get it on the map without considerably zooming in, and now working in Bengaluru. But I guess I find in your writings what I miss out on in mine, and I am happy that I have a blog site to turn to everytime I want to read about nature.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. I have been living in namma Bengaluru for several years now ๐Ÿ™‚ I am honestly glad that my writing gives you a little peek. Thank you so much again Akarsh ๐Ÿ™‚


  2. What a rare insight! You are a deep thinker Akarsh. God has given you a wonderful gift in this talent.
    Thank you for the like at DailyBiblePrayer. I pray these prayers will inspire you with a spiritual message. Today is the day – now is the time to Arise! Take action going towards your heavenly Father.
    May God bless you this week in your journey towards Him and a deeper relationship with Jesus Christ.


    1. Thank you Laura for making some time to read the story and for being so kind… Your words mean a lot. I am so very happy that you liked it.
      Keep writing wonderful articles.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: