The raindrops hit it hard and interfere with its flight. It aims
to soar high and flutters its wings again and again, but the water covers its
eyes and it loses its sense of direction. The sky is a directionless infinity, I
thought, so how does it matter, after all, to lose that sense. I sit back on a
rickety chair in my balcony and watch it struggle, while all the others of its
kind seek protection in the secluded branches of abandoned trees. I don’t
understand. Why couldn’t it have embarked on its journey once the rain ended? And
then suddenly, the words from the book ‘Into the Wild’ come back to
me, about how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong but to feel
strong, to measure yourself at least once, to be in the middle of adverse
conditions and survive. So, maybe, it is one of those beings who wants to achieve that. Maybe.
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