The Perched Bird

Not a week has passed and here I am, wondering about my next holidays. It is not far away though. But in the time within, the horrors to transpire are unquestionable. Last half of the year was pretty much not like the previous half. Not many new faces, well at least not for me, no aim, no goal, no hope of even getting past the next 3 years. What is to become of me?

Nothing new, that’s for sure. Days pass, months pass, all those around me pass (pass by me and pass in the exams too :P) but one thing doesn’t, that is, memories of dawn. My childhood, my teenage, my adolescence and back to childhood. It all seems too good to be true.

College has begun; love is back in the air. Nah, not what you think it is. The mutual love between lecturers (I still don’t get why we call them lecturers. Well at least I know why we can’t call them teachers, because they don’t teach us anything.) And the students’ buds and blooms into a giant stinking rafflesia. Colorful but still stinks. My class is enclosed within a new set of four walls. I liked my old cage. It was nice, warm, bright, cozy, and secluding well connected. Yes I am of course referring to network connectivity. I get a cool phone and the jam runs out. Now the bread doesn’t taste good.

Well back to the point. What am I to do? Sometimes I feel that I have a purpose in life. Sometimes I feel that there is a greater meaning to my life than I can see but I just have to find it. I wish I was a bird. I could just fly high into the air, feel the wind gushing by haplessly as I maneuver through it, cutting across the magnetic lines of the earth’s magnetic field, defying gravity by manipulating the Bernoulli’s Law, making advantage of a flexible tail and inner hollow bones which along with a streamlined body help my journey through the mode of transport of Hermes. Point to note is I am an engineer who studied biology in school and wants to become a mythologist (English fanatics please don’t correct me, for I know not of the errors that transpire throughout mine blog.)

*Clears throat to emphasis that I am not repeating that I am getting back to the point after a pointless waste of time*

OH! You are still reading! Touché. I wonder how. A perched bird has a clear view of its surroundings. It is at the top of its level, at the top branch. Its vision of the future must be in its grasp. Should be.

Let me ask you something. What do you do when you are at the top of your world? Well other than make another movie flicked and revised from “Poca-i-did-not-copy-hantos”. You do not stay there. You want to know more, you wish to sore to greater heights. Not because you must but because you want to know if you can. Sometimes it takes a great fall to know if you can get back up. Sometimes all it takes is a little push to fall.

Well back again to the point, again, the perched bird my friend is not what you think it is. It is not at the top of its world. For a bird, that is the bottom! The sky, the sky is its limit. A bird that has conquered the heights of the tallest tree can always fly higher. To the bird the only position to beat is that of its own mark. Self competition is the path to excellence. Success is defined not by winning, but by beating yourself. In a world where war has ravaged lives of innocent in the name of the ambitious, a bird symbolizes something more than another living thing to be deep fried and flavored with sauces and spices once its roasted and stuffed with mashed potatoes and served on a silver platter with its head chopped off and its succulently vibrantly salted leg pieces protruding outwards into the air stirring an aroma of undeniable envy to taste. Sorry, got carried away.

(Due to unwillingness to die so soon at the expense of sending you to jail I shall end it now.)

Now coming back to the point, you may wonder why I have posted this obscure piece of an excuse of a blog. I ask you to ask yourself to ask me but answer to your conscious mind, did I share this? I would laugh the usual maniacal laughter but I am honored that you would read this by going out of the way. I truly am honored. Shreerama don’t murder me for I am sure you for one would have read it. Please wash your eyes before going any further.

The Perched Bird. Some say it’s getting ready to fly away. Others say it’s resting. Some say go do something worthwhile rather than sprout nonsense, but to them I tell you, I am a perched bird. I stay at a spot and savor the moment. I was on the lookout for a path to lead me to my glory, but instead I found something else. What drove me I never knew, but I realized one thing. I knew why this nonsense began. I realize it too late but I can rectify. I did rectify.

Some may realize I didn’t tell what had I spotted. Now I tell you. Food. Mom’s calling for dinner. Hope I am saner if not wiser once my stomach is full and hopefully my head too.