Humans are Complicated

Humans are complicated, have always been.

So my name is Twitz and I am a splendid sparrow. I am free, free to breathe, free to fly wherever I want, whenever I want. I have my palatial palace nested on one of the sparse trees in an industrial locality of Gurgaon. The city is supposedly called millennium world class city but I fail to see why. All it has is tall towers, unmanageable cars and traffic, smoking generators, broken roads and frustrated people. Not that the humdrum of Delhi is any better. But in Delhi we share one tree between 5 bird families and here I have it all to myself.

And my nest overlooks one of the cabins of a swish office. The cabin, with all the modern day amenities, seems like the most comfortable place. If only it didn't seem so confining, perhaps I would have liked to stay in it. There's this middle aged man who's, on most of the days, quite well dressed already occupying the cabin. It must really be comfortable for he spends more time there than his nest. But I don't understand, if the cabin happens to be so homely then why is this man frowning all the time? Early morning, he walks in, with the most grievous expression and has it glued on his face all day. He screams at all the seemingly meek young people and is shouted at by some more grievous overpowering men and women. He screams on his telephones and even screams at the person serving him coffee. Why should he be so unhappy? What is so troubling in his life? Doesn't he have the power to change what makes him unhappy? I can't imagine waking up to so much bitterness each day and taking it back to my nest only to come back next day with it.

So on one of the fine evenings, it started to rain and with it nature exuded its fresh fragrances. I lay warm in my nest with my family drawing in the freshness, the innocence and sheer liveliness. And then I saw him but this time with a different expression. He was leaning by the window, and staring longingly at my nest. He was almost crying and had sadness in his eyes. Did he envy me? Was he wanting to feel the rain, freedom or just be happy? Why wouldn't he do something about it? Did he dislike the confines of his cabin or swish office? Did he not like the people around him? I wish I could ask and help him but I dare not. 

All I would say is that humans continue to remain truly complicated.