Bird's-Eye View

Sitting on an elevated surface gives us all a definite confidence boost. Watching people move about quickly with the impending tasks hovering over their heads, is like looking at the ants dispersed from a cube of sugar, scattering away for their dear life.

I love my life. I feel above all. Definitely not above the creator, but above the chaos of the world.

My sight from tht angle reminds me of how God would be enjoying his view through the galaxies, and right into our soul. How funny that we think that nobody is watching us.

I keep looking onto the street with people going about their daily chores. Their determination to complete their yws for the day and to look forward towards tt next mkesme think how freaking fragile our mere existence is.

That confidence of mankind is astonishing. Because there's not even a thread of confirmation that we might breathe tomorrow or would open our eyes to see the dawn the next day.

As I told you earlier, my favourite pass time these days is to watch people from my place.

One specific person, gained my attention.  Even amidst this endless chaos, she trots about with bubbling joy relishing her days. She keeps herself and the people about with gratitude.

She resides in the brown coloured house, at the end of the third street in fifth avenue.

An old lady who seemed to have trod on the surface of the earth for about seven decades creating a space of her own, by tending and caring for those around.

As far as I have noticed, she lives alone. From dawn till dusk, there were people around her like the bees attracted by nectar. True literally and metaphorically. Because she gives sweets to whoever visits her.
How do I know this? I've seen people who leave her humble abode with smiles on their face filled with a sense of gratitude and hands with candies.

I am used to visiting her every morning, as she sings her morning hymn and smiles at me gracefully as seeing her long lost friend. Inpsote of viwting her almost everyday, her welcome would be like one reserved for the return of the prodigal son.

My visits gave both of us a mutual peace of mind that helped us in the times of loneliness, a common trait.

She would give me snacks to munch upon. I'd gleefully chatter away at her calming presence. She does not speak to me much. Her only response would be the calm demeanor with a smile accompanied by a nod of head at times. Time would both, literally and metaphorically fly away when we were spending time with each other.

I grew even more accustomed to visiting her almost every day. Truth be told, I'd wait the entire day, from morning to eve for the dawning of the next day awaiting my daily visit.

When everything was on a routine, suddenly a change occurred. It was as if the population of the earth reduced drastically. People were no more seen on the streets. My favourite pastime apart from my visits to the lady, to watch people go about their daily lives has been unrightfully snatched from me.

This gave me a sense of existence. But that was lost upon the deserted streets and buried in the loud silence that overruled. The very few who ventured out, were seen with screens and fear on their countenance. The mix of people, walking about with different agendas on mind, returning with

I was able to loiter about freely. Whereas some people were seen restricted by men of their own creed in a different attire.  What has come over the world, that led it to be clothed in shroud for months together.

It took me a long time to understand that the world has come to a stand still. The day dawned as ususal but the people for whom the earth rotated were not to be seen. It was as if a sudden fear had grown over the minds of the people.