The sparrow's tale

I see in the mirror; I see a sparrow.

The lane behind me is really narrow.

She comes on the porch every morning,

When the pigeons on the fence are spawning.

It’s a game to see her see them and then fly.

She never forgets to say a sweet goodbye.

I wonder everyday though…

Will she come tomorrow?

Or, was this the last time…

Get busy living or get busy dying... Who knows what is better? There was a time when I was so busy living that the thought of death never occurred to me. I love that version of myself. But I didn't know this at the time when I was busy living. At the time I was... well... just busy. A busy little sparrow…

Is it not true that we often value things in life after they are taken away from us? The smell of the roses that withered yesterday ... it's still lingering... somewhere... reminding me of what it was like to have those flowers in her room. But just this morning when the maid was cleaning the vase and said to her, "The flowers are wilting. The fragrance has faded... I feel bad..." Within a snap, she replied to the maid, "It's a flower... That is what is supposed to happen..." And in the moment succeeding that she felt ... "Wait... Was it really me?" Realization dawned upon her... that somewhere ... somehow...she doesn't want to feel that wilting... as if it was of her own being... I was right there watching all of this from the porch.

What followed after that was much scary... She realized she has been doing this to herself for a very long time... Honestly... I think she doesn't even remember how old she was when she first did this to herself... Maybe 10... Dunno... I am sure she doesn't remember why she is the way she is... But it's her second nature now. I know her… And if you knew her… You would be very proud of her to have her in your life. She is a gem… A real one!

She seldom wants others to know what she is really feeling and having done it for so long, I fathom at times it must be difficult for her to feel anything at all. What is worse is that she constantly wants that those around her, those she really cares for are fine and she can literally go the extra mile to ensure that.

It's as if she is, without even knowing about it, numbing herself to the discomfort that is happening because of them just because she loves them.

But… a few days back she realized this and since then she refrains from doing it. She has realized that it is hurting her… It’s good…The realization has set her free.

She has understood that there are layers to her that need to be peeled off… one layer at a time.

But I am yet to find the person who would do that. Honestly, I want to. For her. I am not sure if she ever will. Maybe even if she does, she will stay this way. But a part of me doesn't want her to be that way. But I know it’s okay with her.

Like a diamond buried underneath a pile of coal, her life is okay.

'Okay' is a really frightening word... It says so many things while it has just the right capacity to say nothing at all. That is some word you know! Really ambiguous! 

That is what she is used to say.