Shaking her wings, puffing up one more time and staring out with those bright eyes placed beautifully above her beak, she rotated a complete 360 degrees in the cage. I wondered how she would have felt… ensnared in the iron bars. How disheartening it would have been for her to see the other birds playing in the overwhelming greenery of the tree in front of my house. Her wings were cleaner and admiringly spotless…just the grey and black shades of her natural appearance, the natural color of a pigeon, more admirable than the daily dust-prone bodies of the other flying pigeons…
As always, the freedom-deprived pigeon awakened the timid but philosophical part of me. Considering the fact that it was j a bird, a non-human creature, with which I co-related my life so much…made me appear like an utter moron in front of my friends. It seemed entirely absurd that how a bird and a 16 year old girl had a lot in common. The uncontrollable urge of opening the cage’s door once again knocked the doors of my mind. If I open the door, it will fly away. The same way if I open the gates of my confidence, the gates of my heart, my tears would fly away. Wouldn’t they?
But I didn’t have the key of the cage. The same way I didn’t have the key of courage for me. I cannot stop my mind from exploring the world where I would be free… free from fakeness of my family and friends… I wonder if the bird thinks the same way…Does it wonder how nice it would feel to stretch out it’s wings and take a flight without having the fear of plummeting into a cage or hell, without being forced to crash down by the inevitable gravitational pull. I wonder a lot.
So much that I shouldn’t…
I know that someday I will have to find a key for both of us…
Someday I will have to open all the doors and explore the world. Someday I will explore the sky life just like the bird.