Outside my living room’s wall-size window, there is a flock of pigeons, gathered on a telephone wire. They are cooing in broken chorus, like an endless chattering of immature, careless teenagers about their Instagram profiles. There is no pattern, no synchronization. Every pigeon has its own song, its own rhythm. I’m no expert but I can feel that they don’t care a thing in the world. They are happy to be in this mess in each other’s company. I’m not judging but it seems like a happy gathering of all dumb people. But for a moment I wish I could be as happy as careless as dumb as these pigeons, and shit on people’s head. I feel that being different in a sensible way is the shittiest thing that can happen to anyone. If you’re sensible and always trying to find meaningful things in the world, there are greater chances for you to end-up alone, unless you’re smart enough to act dumb and pretend to enjoy the company you hate to be in. Good luck if that makes you happy.

This is not the first time I had this thought. This probably is the theme of my life. When I was in Delhi, at the beginning of our evening shift, when employees gathered for tea and cigarettes, this was usually the view. I silently ignored them and sat on a lonely bench, looking at the changing colors of sunset on the clouds. I was never a person who could be fake and pretend to be a part of the crowd just because it felt awkward to be a loner. I always put my headset on so to avoid any conversation and when I saw anyone approaching, I looked at my phone screen even when there was nothing to look. People thought I was anti-social; they didn’t know that I too craved for a company but couldn’t stand shallow conversations like theirs. I observe people so I knew for sure who all didn’t belong to this brainless flock and were there just for the sake of a company. I could try to rescue them but after a lot of failed attempts in the past, I had my lessons. Now, I let people suffer and see if they can find their own way out, and end-up suffering alone, like me.

I watch these pigeons for another minute and when their song starts becoming a noise, I throw at them a cashew nut so they can fuck-off and gather somewhere else. There is a chaos for a moment as these dumb birds flutter away, and when they disappear from my sight, I find that they leave behind this geeky-looking ugly bird. It looks at me in silence, moving its head clockwise, anti-clockwise, as if trying to recognize someone. I feel like I just rescued him until it yells something in its language at me, shits and flies away to join its flock.

flock of birds on cable wire near brown concrete building
Photo by Frantisek Duris on Pexels.com

19 Comments Add yours

  1. Barros Ventura says:

    This is literally what my whole life has been like, especially the teen years. But overtime when you get older you just don’t care anymore (although at times looking lonely can make you feel bad even if you aren’t) to waste your time on meaningless things, shallow conversations as you said. I relate to every bit of this post, love it.

    1. NEKNEERAJ says:

      I can feel you. Thank you for sharing your thoughts.

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