Little black bird #6

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It was the time of dusk, the time for birds to go back. The time of arrival of darkness. I met my old friend, a little blackbird. He was looking at me quizzingly as if questioning my presence there but soon came toward me perched by my window. 

He repeated, “Even death has a heart.” to me. 

[*The Book Thief (Markus Zusak) ]

This quote stayed with me forever ever since I had read this book. But one thing is for sure people don't have one. There are a few elements in this world who just know how to take advantage of others. Either through crocodile tears vanilla-coated lies, or victim cards. 

Even snakes shed their skin after a time but these people can never. For them, grapes are always sour. Instead of being contended with themselves, they choose bad-mouthing over the chest of the dead. After all, graves don't cry they can say whatever they want. 

My little blackbird flapped his wings as if laughing over their pettiness.  He looked at the red-grey sky and asked me to embrace the red colour and look forward to my life. He flew away to his home, leaving me under the gaze of stars.

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Nidhi katoch
A silent observer in search of her TRUE HOME. If you like my writings, do comment and share... Views are extremely personal and are original writings of mine.

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