Wednesday, June 02, 2004

birds

As I was sitting in the car today, waiting for my mum to finish socializing so we could go home, I saw one of those guys with a whole family of little wild birds that deserve to twitter about freely, hopping more than walking, and was caught by a memory. When I was nine and my brother seven, we saw one of these birdcatchers and felt so sorry for the poor things that we paid the man our collective fortunes as of that moment (A grand sum of thirty rupees) to set as many birds free as he could. The man let six go (Five rupees per bird. At last, the price of freedom is defined) and we convinced our aunt to pay the man some more to let them all go. We then went home, happy that we had saved the poor, cramped little wild birds from imprisonment. What makes me recall that day in particular is that we were both so free of cynicism and world-weariness that we actually believed that those birds would fly free forever. Now, that sort of innocence and belief in basic human goodness, namely that the man would let them be free once he has been paid for their release, is something I could never get. I miss that innocence.

Misha at Wednesday, June 02, 2004

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