Sparrows in an empty house.
A father was sitting with eyes closed but from the corners of his eyes some irresistible tear drops glistened. Outward tears were the visible outgrowth of an inward tempest. Behind his so silent, calm and contemplative figure, there boiled up some excruciating emptiness of not finding his loved child by his side. He sat alone and the house was gloomily silent. He was a father and his lovely and cute baby, who babbled and was giggling inquisitively to know the complicacies of the world, had been snatched from him by the mother. What was the conflict? Why did the father live like a withered, leafless plant?
The silence of the empty heart and also the empty house broke with chirping of a pair of house sparrows. The bird-couple fluttered happily in and around the house and started weaving a nest at the ventilator in one corner. It was their season. They worked in perfect unison and the nest was ready for another new creature to take form. Their growth and living was free from ego, free from criticizing, free from ignoring the other……….
And the happy birds’ nest was built in the empty house where the intelligent couple of human beings could not live together.
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