I love these two tiny birds, the colourful Majnu Tota and beautiful Laila Maina, who grace my balcony in the high-rise almost every morning. I have always wondered what these free birds talk about in these surroundings where construction seems to be a part of life. Tuning into them with my recently acquired temporary superpowers, I realised it was not a playful banter of two lovers but a thoughtful, spirited discussion. Here, I translate it for the benefit of lesser mortals like you. Read on – and sorry, dear Tota – Maina, for letting people into your conversation—no privacy laws cover you- but I have kept the discussion Kid-friendly, removing all the double-meaning innuendoes mostly from Tota.
Tota: “Oh, for the love of worms, Maina! Have you seen what the humans are up to? Don’t they have enough already without building yet another high-rise? Finding a decent tree nearby is difficult for a bird like me. I think I’ll have to move further down the suburbs.”
Maina: “Tell me about it, Tota. I had a lovely nest in that mango tree, but they chopped it down to make way for a parking lot. Though they have laws to prevent tree cutting, corrupt babus regularly give permission in the name of development. It is tough out here. And don’t even get me started on the food situation. Crumbs are fine, but I’ve had it with gluten!”
Tota: “And the noise! How do these humans live with it? Constantly honking their horns. Construction machinery keeps humming and hammering. It is like they are all trying to out-chirp each other. Or maybe it’s a new language we don’t understand.”
Maina: “I know; your sense of humour has gone down the drain. And, have you heard the racket they call music? One species and so many attempts at crude melodies. I’ve heard better tunes from a startled pigeon.”
The two birds laugh, their voices lost in the wild township. No echo was found in the urban canyon.
Tota: “Speaking of humans, I overheard a couple talking about ‘gender disparity’ the other day. What’s that about?”
Maina: “Oh, that. It’s when one gender gets treated better or is rather favoured. Can you imagine? In our world, it’s simple: males do the singing, and females do the nesting. No one complains.”
Tota: “Well, if they could fly, they wouldn’t have time to argue. They would be too busy dodging cats and dogs and finding food.”
Maina: “True. They have nasty work habits, a bad environment, and high expectations—poor souls. I saw one yesterday; he looked like he was ready to pluck his feathers out with stress, sitting before that shiny screen. And all for what?”
Tota: “Yeah, you wouldn’t understand. They do all the work for money. I guess it’s just like I would for a bright red berry. They spend all their time chasing it, and then they need these short migrations they call ‘vacations’ to recover—where I understand they get even more tired.”
Maina: “Vacations! My foot! My friend from Siberia migrates thousands of miles twice a year. Can you imagine if he stopped halfway and called it a holiday?”
Both birds burst into chirps of laughter, but Tota’s laughter had a bit of understandable, useless jealousy.
Tota: “These humans forget simple things. While chasing their goals, dreams, desires, and whatever new names they can give to their stupid aspirations, they should not forget to rest and enjoy life. You don’t need a vacation to find peace; sometimes, it’s right there in the daily routine. They continuously talk of freedom, but all they do is build welcoming walls of further constraints, marooning themselves with another of the anchors like relationships, workplace, family, and more.”
Maina gave Tota a classical look, saying, “You’re telling me that, but it sounds good, and I am proud of you.”
Tota: “But seriously, they must learn to enjoy the simple things like a fresh morning breeze or a good worm. Take joy in the small things. A quiet moment, a simple meal. Life doesn’t have to be complicated to be fulfilling. It is not about running after milestones- but life after milestones. “
Maina: “Amen to that, Tota. But I understand they are turning extreme vegetarian, something they call vegan, and more inclusive and too sensitive with stupid things they call woke. Speaking of which, how about we find breakfast before the painful construction noise starts again?”
Tota: “Lead the way, Maina. I will follow. And hey, pray to Mother Nature for all the glory that we don’t have to deal with their problems. High-rises or not, we’ve got the sky.” Then, the philosopher in Tota took over. “I see change all around me. Change is constant, but resilience is key. Whether it’s a tree being cut down or a high-rise being built, find new ways to thrive. Adapt to your surroundings and keep moving forward.”
As the birds fluttered away, leaving behind the balcony and the perplexing human world, they reflected on the humans below.
Maina: “You know, despite their mess, they are evolving. Learning from their mistakes, adapting, and growing. It’s not easy, but they keep trying. Maybe there’s hope for them yet. Maybe they should read the Individual Guide to Nature Conservation.”
Tota: “Yes, maybe. And I wish there is some hope, some change. I have heard them talk about climate control and sustainability. Some of them are serious about it. They have the capacity to learn and evolve. But they must act now; otherwise, it may be too late. And, yes, if they don’t, we will end up paying a price for their mistakes. They need to remember the simple joys and stay resilient. We’ve got the sky, and they’ve got the potential. Here’s hoping they soar high someday, too, and I mean that metaphorically and am not talking about the big metallic pet bird they have, which only our suicide bombers can bring down.”
And with that, the two birds, Tota – Maina darted around and soared into the limitless sky, embodying the freedom and wisdom they wished for their human neighbours.
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