I closed my eyes and felt the whole world gone. It was my presence until the sounds of people walking without lifting their feet echoed. Those unsung sounds of birds, people, kids, and utensils, made me feel that I belonged to this world. My instincts tried to convince me otherwise. I went to the seashore, dwelled in my quiet room, plugged in earplugs and yet I kept belonging to this world. These are all omens or proofs of my belongingness. There’s a beautiful helplessness in belonging that once you do, you can’t cease belonging to the world, even when you don’t want to; even when there is no meaning to it.
A bird so desperate to fly Sitting in the nest and adoring the sky Seeing the distant view of woods and building Unaware of his destiny's conspiracy who wants his yielding Under the cool shade of tree The bright sight he views and sees Unaware about the heat of the sun For a sky to conquer he thinks he is the only one With passing time the day comes and he takes off Flying here and there just for a bread loaf Wind blows to make him change direction But he thinks he is controlling his action He realises that every factor is using him But still in his eyes there is a raging fire of dreams He imagine himself flying above clouds in sky And sees the glimpse of success by closing his eyes He alone flies by all the odds facing Sees others in group and omens tracing Nothing but defeat in his toes he catches But realization of learning he has from all the matches The sky gets dark and it rains Able to do nothing and in water he drains The chirp of his grief gets loud...