I was stuck in the middle of a jam packed bus, inching forward in the crowd, trying to find a place in the bus to atleast stand a little comfortably.
Fortunately, next to where I half stood, a slightly plump lady, with mehendi brown, neatly tied hair, in a salwar kameez (strongly reminded me of my hindi teacher) got up.
Relieved, I pushed my way to her seat and sat down. Though much much better than half-standing, sitting in a Mulund bound bus passing through Saki Naka - is not as comfortable as you might imagine. I was still squeezed in between a sari-clad lady who along with herself had also placed her thin undernourished son (may be around 5 yrs old) on the seat - and a fat lady holding a large purse standing on my left. She was standing facing me and the window, ready to pounce on my seat the moment I got up. She kept leaning on me for support, backing off a little when I looked up and glared at her. The corner of her square, brown, leather purse kept jabbing at my cheeks - or my neck if I shifted a little to avoid it. Hot air blew in through the window mixed with dust and exhausts from all the other vehicles on the road.
It was going to take atleast 45 minutes more to reach Saki Naka, where I work. So I took out a book of CAT problems (Quantitative Ability - Numbers - my favourite chapter). With only a month to go for CAT, I stand little chance of cracking it; still thinking over these problems is a nice way of keeping your mind engaged. Otherwise such miserable conditions induce your mind to collect all the negative thoughts in your head and replay them again and again, till you are drained of all energy and will power to survive the rest of the day.
But today, as I tried to study with one hand on my book and the other trying to shield me from the purse, I found it impossible to concentrate. Instead I found myself following the pattern of little squares and circles on the brown bag that kept coming alternatively closer and further from my eyes. It made me feel drowsy. A nice start for the day. :(
I looked up, to take my eyes off the bag – an old, thin, weak looking lady was standing now a little ahead of my seat, clutching at a vertical rod with both hands. She must have been around seventy years old. I didn’t see her coming. She was not very noticeable. Short, thin, and the kind of person who tried her best not to disturb anyone or come in their way. Her face was pale, dry, shriveled skin wrapped over her thin facial structure. It made her eyes look big. Those were tired eyes, looking here and there hoping for a place to sit. They wore a resigned look, which said she had accepted long ago that she had to suffer, without any help. She had to bear with it, however unbearable.. She had no choice.
Now in one of your short distance buses most people would promptly get up and offer her their seat. After all she was old and we are supposed to be sensitive and respect our elders. But it is in longer distance buses like this one that these values are really put to test. When faced with the prospect of standing, being pushed and dragged about for more than an hour, such values are usually held aside for the time being.
My immediate reaction on seeing her, was to look down again into my book as if I had not seen her at all. A voice spoke in my head. You ought to give her your seat you know!
I looked up again. Nah! She’ll manage.
Voice: Obviously she’ll manage better if she gets to sit.
Me: Oh come on! Not my problem.
Voice: Wouldn’t you have wanted someone to offer a seat if you were not
well?
Me: So why me? Someone else can do it too. Look at all those losers. They
don’t even care.
Voice: You are one of them.
Me: I have to study see?
Voice: I know how much you’ve been studying.
Me: Still, I have to try at least.
Voice: Fine then. But spend the rest of the day hating yourself for being so
heartless.
That last thought was too much for me to handle. I packed my book back into my bag, looked up and tapped the old lady on her shoulders. “Aunty, you want to sit?”
So for the rest of the journey I stood. Some of the older ladies gave me an appreciating look. One of them even offered to hold my bag.
It was actually a good feeling. For some reason it was not so difficult to stand anymore. I know I didn’t make a big difference to her life as a whole. I didn’t do anything great for the betterment of humanity in general. But atleast for one day, for the moment, I made life easier for that one person. And ……. I don’t know! It felt good. :)
And I remembered something my class teacher, Prabha Ma’am had taught me in school years ago in a value education class,
“Never let your conscience be silenced. For any reason whatsoever. Then you can be rest assured that whatever you are doing is right. Because your conscience always knows.”
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
Random....
A random thought that came to my mind that I decided to write down.....
Trying to find something challenging to do. Getting into something that seems interesting. Thinking its pretty easy you can do it. Getting deeper and deeper into it. Realising how vast it is, how much there is to do, how clueless you really are. Still pushing yourself. Walking down the road making plans and to-do lists in your head. Starting off work with something you really didn’t plan to do. Forgetting to have your meal because you are working on something "so important”. Realizing the next day that whatever you had been doing on the previous day was quite useless & of no consequence. Seeing your work tumbling down. Wondering why you ever got into this in the first place. Fights, misunderstandings, volatile moods, tempers, criticisms….
Walking down the road wondering why life is so bloody unfair to you. Going numb. Ignoring everyone & everything.
Sleepless nights spent lying lifeless in your bed, staring at the rectangular patch of golden light from the nearby street lamp on the ceiling – thinking uncontrollably about your project – all the plans – all the “useless” efforts – what was needed, what should have been done. Suddenly getting an idea out of nowhere that links everything …… thinking again & again about the same idea – getting convinced that it will solve everything.
Waking up the next day to a vague memory of last night. Not feeling as convinced now that the idea can be made to work. Following it anyways. Watching things working out. Watching your dreams slowly turn into reality. Giving it the finishing touches. Finding yourself humming a beautiful song. Smiling at everyone you meet.
Periods of my life when I LIVED. Periods that are etched in my memory. Memories of random people unexpectedly coming & helping out. New friends, new lessons, new understanding.
That’s what life is all about. There is nothing more frustrating than an idle mind. Find yourself something to do, something to go mad about. A project, a song, an idea, your boyfriend – anything. You might not always succeed in the end – but you will realize later that the real fun was while working on it …… that’s when you really lived to your fullest – times that left behind lessons, memories, friends – everything that you’ll always cherish for the rest of your life……..
Trying to find something challenging to do. Getting into something that seems interesting. Thinking its pretty easy you can do it. Getting deeper and deeper into it. Realising how vast it is, how much there is to do, how clueless you really are. Still pushing yourself. Walking down the road making plans and to-do lists in your head. Starting off work with something you really didn’t plan to do. Forgetting to have your meal because you are working on something "so important”. Realizing the next day that whatever you had been doing on the previous day was quite useless & of no consequence. Seeing your work tumbling down. Wondering why you ever got into this in the first place. Fights, misunderstandings, volatile moods, tempers, criticisms….
Walking down the road wondering why life is so bloody unfair to you. Going numb. Ignoring everyone & everything.
Sleepless nights spent lying lifeless in your bed, staring at the rectangular patch of golden light from the nearby street lamp on the ceiling – thinking uncontrollably about your project – all the plans – all the “useless” efforts – what was needed, what should have been done. Suddenly getting an idea out of nowhere that links everything …… thinking again & again about the same idea – getting convinced that it will solve everything.
Waking up the next day to a vague memory of last night. Not feeling as convinced now that the idea can be made to work. Following it anyways. Watching things working out. Watching your dreams slowly turn into reality. Giving it the finishing touches. Finding yourself humming a beautiful song. Smiling at everyone you meet.
Periods of my life when I LIVED. Periods that are etched in my memory. Memories of random people unexpectedly coming & helping out. New friends, new lessons, new understanding.
That’s what life is all about. There is nothing more frustrating than an idle mind. Find yourself something to do, something to go mad about. A project, a song, an idea, your boyfriend – anything. You might not always succeed in the end – but you will realize later that the real fun was while working on it …… that’s when you really lived to your fullest – times that left behind lessons, memories, friends – everything that you’ll always cherish for the rest of your life……..
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Escape
It was full moon. Summer. Around two in the night. The air was still. Outside the trees stood dark and still, an occasional light breeze stirring a few leaves, but you would notice it only if you were watching since a long time.
And the longer you watched the trees, the more convinced you would get that they had life, and secrets. They knew, they understood a lot of things. But for some reason they preferred to be on their own, watching from a distance, pretending innocence.
The moon shone into the room through the open window. She sat there at the window, her head resting on the palm of her right hand, elbow on the white marble window sill. Her left hand hand half hanging out of the window as if to catch invisible raindrops. In the silver moonlight, her skin otherwise dusky seemed pale and white. She sat like that in her room, door closed to shut her for the time being from what went on in the rest of the house. Her eyes watched the shadow of the leaves, on the ground three floors below, through the gap between her fingers. She was a girl of twelve.
Outside her room the voices had ceased. There was no more shouting, no more noise of breaking glass, no more whining. She felt heavy. Something inside her wanted to sob bitterly, loudly, wail through the quiet neighbourhood. But she sat still. Willing the tears to come. The sob struggled up her throat but got lost somewhere on the way before it could reach her eyes. The tears wouldn't come.
And she continued to sit there. On the surface, her face looked calm, though her eyes glinted in the moonlight, giving away the rage that she felt within. Her eyes were now focused on the palm of her left hand. They followed the pattern of lines on it. A dark line ran down from the top left and stopped somewhere before it reached the bottom right. She couldnt stop looking at it..................
Fresh red blood trickled out as she finished drawing a shallow slit over the line with a blade. She bent her palm a little to feel the pain - the thin red line was slowly dotted by small drops of blood till it was transformed into a thick uneven line and blood trickled down the side of her hand.
At the same time, two little drops of tears trickled down the sides of her eyes as she cringed in pain. And then she wept. Softly. Once she gasped loudly for breath. But she shut her mouth with her free hand to stifle the sound. Allowing herself only to wail softly.
For a long time she let the tears flow out noiselessly till her eyes were finally dry again -- and the blood had stopped soaking the handkerchief she held against her palm.
Then she hid away the handkerchief that she would dispose off later, pulled a blanket over herself and shut her eyes to get some sleep before another miserable day would begin.
And the longer you watched the trees, the more convinced you would get that they had life, and secrets. They knew, they understood a lot of things. But for some reason they preferred to be on their own, watching from a distance, pretending innocence.
The moon shone into the room through the open window. She sat there at the window, her head resting on the palm of her right hand, elbow on the white marble window sill. Her left hand hand half hanging out of the window as if to catch invisible raindrops. In the silver moonlight, her skin otherwise dusky seemed pale and white. She sat like that in her room, door closed to shut her for the time being from what went on in the rest of the house. Her eyes watched the shadow of the leaves, on the ground three floors below, through the gap between her fingers. She was a girl of twelve.
Outside her room the voices had ceased. There was no more shouting, no more noise of breaking glass, no more whining. She felt heavy. Something inside her wanted to sob bitterly, loudly, wail through the quiet neighbourhood. But she sat still. Willing the tears to come. The sob struggled up her throat but got lost somewhere on the way before it could reach her eyes. The tears wouldn't come.
And she continued to sit there. On the surface, her face looked calm, though her eyes glinted in the moonlight, giving away the rage that she felt within. Her eyes were now focused on the palm of her left hand. They followed the pattern of lines on it. A dark line ran down from the top left and stopped somewhere before it reached the bottom right. She couldnt stop looking at it..................
Fresh red blood trickled out as she finished drawing a shallow slit over the line with a blade. She bent her palm a little to feel the pain - the thin red line was slowly dotted by small drops of blood till it was transformed into a thick uneven line and blood trickled down the side of her hand.
At the same time, two little drops of tears trickled down the sides of her eyes as she cringed in pain. And then she wept. Softly. Once she gasped loudly for breath. But she shut her mouth with her free hand to stifle the sound. Allowing herself only to wail softly.
For a long time she let the tears flow out noiselessly till her eyes were finally dry again -- and the blood had stopped soaking the handkerchief she held against her palm.
Then she hid away the handkerchief that she would dispose off later, pulled a blanket over herself and shut her eyes to get some sleep before another miserable day would begin.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Unsaid Words
A beautiful day, a heavenly place,
A hope in heart, a silent gaze,
The hope had started to die,
My heart had begun to cry,
I would had broken down,
Had it not been for that glance sly.
Those eyes followed me wherever i went,
And in their warmth, I found my strength,
I could not let it go, though i knew it would be wrong,
I knew the love for him in my heart,
Would not be lasting long.
A short stay, his charming ways,
This empty heart, could not reciprocate.
Yet he didn't ask why,
He never let me cry,
He just seemed to know, he bid his silent goodbye.
Yet wherever I went, those eyes kept guard,
Always kept me out of harm's way,
Such was his noble heart.
He asks for nothing in return,
I deserve not this affection,
I want to say, please dont go away,
Yet there's nothing here,
For which you should stay.
Go now! Find a more worthy friend,
And for a long life of happiness,
Yours and hers I'll always pray.
A hope in heart, a silent gaze,
The hope had started to die,
My heart had begun to cry,
I would had broken down,
Had it not been for that glance sly.
Those eyes followed me wherever i went,
And in their warmth, I found my strength,
I could not let it go, though i knew it would be wrong,
I knew the love for him in my heart,
Would not be lasting long.
A short stay, his charming ways,
This empty heart, could not reciprocate.
Yet he didn't ask why,
He never let me cry,
He just seemed to know, he bid his silent goodbye.
Yet wherever I went, those eyes kept guard,
Always kept me out of harm's way,
Such was his noble heart.
He asks for nothing in return,
I deserve not this affection,
I want to say, please dont go away,
Yet there's nothing here,
For which you should stay.
Go now! Find a more worthy friend,
And for a long life of happiness,
Yours and hers I'll always pray.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
My Time
Sometimes I feel this need to be alone. Me, myself, my music, my diary, my novels and my computer that’s it. When I feel like, I read a book, or I listen to a song or when I feel like I stop everything and just sit and sing or I write in my in my diary. And if I feel like talking I call someone or go online or I just sit and play games on the computer or I play with my parrots, talk to them, sing for them.
Or just nothing. I just sit and do nothing at all. Not bother about anything or anyone. For a change I don’t let life rule over me , I rule my life, I decide everything for myself, without having to bother about what someone will think.
I know its not possible forever. I’m also addicted to a life filled with excitement and challenges, unexpected surprises and problems and most of all I am addicted to being constantly in the company of people. I love getting to know new people, making new friends and spending time with all my friends.
But still once in a while I want to have this ‘only me time’. Just me and no one else, no obligations, just live as if there were no cares in the world! I’ m not sure how, but somehow it helps me discover myself, understand myself better, to unwind myself, to know what I want with my life. One such day and I suddenly feel geared up to face the world with an energy that I never knew existed inside me. I feel more in touch with myself and I feel kinder, more caring, I love everyone and everything around me and I feel happier and more satisfied.
Just a little bit of time can make such a big difference!!!
Or just nothing. I just sit and do nothing at all. Not bother about anything or anyone. For a change I don’t let life rule over me , I rule my life, I decide everything for myself, without having to bother about what someone will think.
I know its not possible forever. I’m also addicted to a life filled with excitement and challenges, unexpected surprises and problems and most of all I am addicted to being constantly in the company of people. I love getting to know new people, making new friends and spending time with all my friends.
But still once in a while I want to have this ‘only me time’. Just me and no one else, no obligations, just live as if there were no cares in the world! I’ m not sure how, but somehow it helps me discover myself, understand myself better, to unwind myself, to know what I want with my life. One such day and I suddenly feel geared up to face the world with an energy that I never knew existed inside me. I feel more in touch with myself and I feel kinder, more caring, I love everyone and everything around me and I feel happier and more satisfied.
Just a little bit of time can make such a big difference!!!
Saturday, June 28, 2008
A Dream
Last night I had a dream. I was in my school and it was sports day. I was running , running trying to run fast but other people were going ahead of me. But I was still trying. People around me were cheering for me. I was trying, trying hard but somehow however fast I tried to run, other people would come from behind and get ahead of me … and the race was just not getting over. I was getting tired but I couldn’t give up … I had to run keep running … Suddenly the voices started fading. People had stopped cheering for me. May be they had realized I am no good. I was getting tired … my eyes were closing … I could not keep my eyes open I had to sleep. I just stopped running , everything went blank. I was sleeping peacefully there were no voices anymore … but somehow my bed was feeling very hard and cold. It was getting uncomfortable. I tried to move but I could not move. There was no place to move.
I opened my eyes. Hey! What is this? Where am i? This is so ridiculous! I was in a cage! I couldn’t believe it! I was bewildered! I started shouting, banging on the bars of the cage. Hey! Who put me in this cage! Get me out here! What’s happening? But people merely looked on, some were smiling, others were looking at me intently as if I was entertaining them. But none of them was interested in getting me out of the cage. I couldn’t understand anything. What was happening. I wanted to get out of that goddamn cage! I was feeling suffocated , I wanted to move but there was no place. I started crying.
Suddenly I was not inside the cage. I was looking at it from outside and my beloved parrot Chiki was inside. He was screeching loudly and flapping his wings hard on the bars of the cage. He just went on trying … he did not understand that there was no way of getting out of the cage. And I was seeing him after so many days! They had trapped him in a cage. I couldn’t see him like that! I had to do something! But I was helpless. They had tied up my hands. I wanted to help him desperately! But all I could do was helplessly watch his futile attempts to get out of the cage. I couldn’t bear it. I started crying uncontrollably.
Suddenly someone was shaking me, slapping my head. I opened my eyes and met my sister’s concerned eyes.
“Hey what happened? Are you fine?” she asked.
“ Ya I am fine! I … I guess I was dreaming. Its ok! I am fine!” I replied.
She just smiled, kissed my forehead, put her arms around me to comfort me and went to sleep again.
I got up and drank some water. Then I went to bed again. But I couldn’t sleep after that. I was thinking all night. Is this what happened to my Chiki? Was he trapped in a cage somewhere? My innocent, mischievous, playful sweetheart Chiki! Is this what they had done to him? No they cant do it! I had to go and find him! But where? He could be just anywhere! I wish I could fly. Then I could have gone looking for him. I was feeling so helpless! I just couldn’t get that dream out of my head!
He was looking at me , expecting me to help him, like the innumerable times I had helped him when he was fighting with the other parrots. He always felt secure with me because he knew the other parrots couldn’t touch him when he was with me . He was the only parrot who unconditionally trusted me more than he trusted the other parrots. The first parrot to be bold enough to come close to me and eat from my hand. The first parrot with whom I became such great friends!
I had watched him grow up from the little ugly baby that couldn’t fly properly to a beautiful full grown parrot। When he had started getting the beautiful blue and red ring around his neck, I had gone running to mom excitedly. Mom look! He’s getting a ring on his neck! He was also the most playful. When he would come and sit on the badam tree near my house and make funny chuckling and chattering sounds, I knew it was my Chiki! I could recognize his voice! And I would try to find where exactly he was on the tree. He would keep screeching and making funny chuckling sounds like he was making fun of me till I found him. And when I finally found him, I would look at him, smile and call him, “ Chiki! Aaja! “ and he would shout excitedly and come flying to my window immediately! And till I gave him his favourite ground nuts, he would hop in his place on the grill and shout. When there were other parrots around he would do this more. He loved to show off in front of them! But the other parrots would get jealous and trouble him and Chiki was a very bad fighter! He almost always lost and I would come to his rescue. That was how we became such great friends!
When it was raining heavily, mom would sometimes close the window and the parrots didn’t like it. But he was the only parrot that would actually come and knock on the window! He would scratch the window pane with his beak till we opened it. He was such a sweetheart! I could go on and on about him!!!
But one day he just did not come. When I came back from school, the first question that I always asked my mom was, “ Did Chiki come today? What did he do?”
But today mom said he didn’t come. I thought mom might not have realized when he had come. I waited for him to come again in the evening. But he did not come at the time when he usually came. Even the slightest voice of a parrot and I would go rushing to the window. All the voices seemed like Chiki’s voice today. I kept looking for him on the Badam tree. But he was nowhere … All other parrots came, had their food and went away. I kept asking each of them , “ Chiki kahaan hai??” I knew they were not understanding what I was saying. But I couldn’t help it, I was getting desperate. He didn’t come that day.
The next day I waited again and again the day after that। Everyday I did the same thing. Any parrot would shout on the badam tree and I would think it was Chiki and call out, “ Chiki aaja!” But this one wouldn’t come flying like him. But I didn’t give up. I did this all the time. I had gone mad. My mom started getting irritated because I was not paying attention to my studies. The people outside saw me doing this everyday and I’m sure they thought I was crazy. But I didn’t care … I wanted my Chiki back! But he never came back … I still hope he’ll come back someday … I miss him … really miss him …
( Readers of this blog … it is my fervent request to all of you. Never trap birds in cages. Birds are meant to fly freely in the open sky … they have a life of their own … they can’t live happily in cages. Don’t rob them of their freedom, their happiness, their life … don’t encourage the trading of birds in cages … don’t buy birds in cages … its not just illegal, its INHUMAN. And spread this message to as many as possible! Good day! )
I opened my eyes. Hey! What is this? Where am i? This is so ridiculous! I was in a cage! I couldn’t believe it! I was bewildered! I started shouting, banging on the bars of the cage. Hey! Who put me in this cage! Get me out here! What’s happening? But people merely looked on, some were smiling, others were looking at me intently as if I was entertaining them. But none of them was interested in getting me out of the cage. I couldn’t understand anything. What was happening. I wanted to get out of that goddamn cage! I was feeling suffocated , I wanted to move but there was no place. I started crying.
Suddenly I was not inside the cage. I was looking at it from outside and my beloved parrot Chiki was inside. He was screeching loudly and flapping his wings hard on the bars of the cage. He just went on trying … he did not understand that there was no way of getting out of the cage. And I was seeing him after so many days! They had trapped him in a cage. I couldn’t see him like that! I had to do something! But I was helpless. They had tied up my hands. I wanted to help him desperately! But all I could do was helplessly watch his futile attempts to get out of the cage. I couldn’t bear it. I started crying uncontrollably.
Suddenly someone was shaking me, slapping my head. I opened my eyes and met my sister’s concerned eyes.
“Hey what happened? Are you fine?” she asked.
“ Ya I am fine! I … I guess I was dreaming. Its ok! I am fine!” I replied.
She just smiled, kissed my forehead, put her arms around me to comfort me and went to sleep again.
I got up and drank some water. Then I went to bed again. But I couldn’t sleep after that. I was thinking all night. Is this what happened to my Chiki? Was he trapped in a cage somewhere? My innocent, mischievous, playful sweetheart Chiki! Is this what they had done to him? No they cant do it! I had to go and find him! But where? He could be just anywhere! I wish I could fly. Then I could have gone looking for him. I was feeling so helpless! I just couldn’t get that dream out of my head!
He was looking at me , expecting me to help him, like the innumerable times I had helped him when he was fighting with the other parrots. He always felt secure with me because he knew the other parrots couldn’t touch him when he was with me . He was the only parrot who unconditionally trusted me more than he trusted the other parrots. The first parrot to be bold enough to come close to me and eat from my hand. The first parrot with whom I became such great friends!
I had watched him grow up from the little ugly baby that couldn’t fly properly to a beautiful full grown parrot। When he had started getting the beautiful blue and red ring around his neck, I had gone running to mom excitedly. Mom look! He’s getting a ring on his neck! He was also the most playful. When he would come and sit on the badam tree near my house and make funny chuckling and chattering sounds, I knew it was my Chiki! I could recognize his voice! And I would try to find where exactly he was on the tree. He would keep screeching and making funny chuckling sounds like he was making fun of me till I found him. And when I finally found him, I would look at him, smile and call him, “ Chiki! Aaja! “ and he would shout excitedly and come flying to my window immediately! And till I gave him his favourite ground nuts, he would hop in his place on the grill and shout. When there were other parrots around he would do this more. He loved to show off in front of them! But the other parrots would get jealous and trouble him and Chiki was a very bad fighter! He almost always lost and I would come to his rescue. That was how we became such great friends!
When it was raining heavily, mom would sometimes close the window and the parrots didn’t like it. But he was the only parrot that would actually come and knock on the window! He would scratch the window pane with his beak till we opened it. He was such a sweetheart! I could go on and on about him!!!
But one day he just did not come. When I came back from school, the first question that I always asked my mom was, “ Did Chiki come today? What did he do?”
But today mom said he didn’t come. I thought mom might not have realized when he had come. I waited for him to come again in the evening. But he did not come at the time when he usually came. Even the slightest voice of a parrot and I would go rushing to the window. All the voices seemed like Chiki’s voice today. I kept looking for him on the Badam tree. But he was nowhere … All other parrots came, had their food and went away. I kept asking each of them , “ Chiki kahaan hai??” I knew they were not understanding what I was saying. But I couldn’t help it, I was getting desperate. He didn’t come that day.
The next day I waited again and again the day after that। Everyday I did the same thing. Any parrot would shout on the badam tree and I would think it was Chiki and call out, “ Chiki aaja!” But this one wouldn’t come flying like him. But I didn’t give up. I did this all the time. I had gone mad. My mom started getting irritated because I was not paying attention to my studies. The people outside saw me doing this everyday and I’m sure they thought I was crazy. But I didn’t care … I wanted my Chiki back! But he never came back … I still hope he’ll come back someday … I miss him … really miss him …
( Readers of this blog … it is my fervent request to all of you. Never trap birds in cages. Birds are meant to fly freely in the open sky … they have a life of their own … they can’t live happily in cages. Don’t rob them of their freedom, their happiness, their life … don’t encourage the trading of birds in cages … don’t buy birds in cages … its not just illegal, its INHUMAN. And spread this message to as many as possible! Good day! )
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)