She was walking through the city that day and somehow each end every smell reminded her of the decaying effect that city life had on society and culture. One more such stench and she might even vomit she thought. And to think that some creatures, whom we often don't even perceive as human, live all their lives picking up such dirt from under our noses. Do they constantly feel disturbed by the rotting values mixed with pieces of daily bread that the wealthy ones throw away from their windows? Or did they get used to their demeaning existence?
She wondered where did all the trees go, and then her eyes fell on two huge MCD dustbins. One was grey like the city around her, the other had the green colour of nature. Did they cut down all the branches and buried them in the trash? Uncivilised civilisation vs Organic nature. They burst some crackers after their cricket match last night, but she was not sure who the winner was.
Her thoughts drifted towards the boy who found her swimming in the river eons back. How peaceful and colourful their days were on the desert where he lived. She left her shadow far away and was just a little girl lost in the oceans of the world. But there was no danger involved. Only peace in the heart. Where was the boy today? Did he vanish together with the disappearance of a flight bound to nowhere? Was he still walking in the desert? Or did he lose himself in the wanton pleasures of the city?
As she was pondering so her feet came to a sudden halt. In the middle of a parking space there was a black and blue butterfly lying on the concrete. One of its wings was torn. She picked it up an kept on her palm. She was not sure what to do next but she knew she could not leave this flying painting of nature to a certain death under some heavy vehicle. She still had a vague memory of a film she watched many years back in which a dancing girl breaks her ankle and the magic of a puppeteer turns her into a butterfly. She could very easily identify herself with that girl and butterfly today.
A huge car stopped next to her and a wealthy mother of a fat child ordered in a high pitched voice "Could you please come here? He would like to see your pet. He has never seen a butterfly before, we still haven't taken him to the zoo."
Really? she thought... do you really need to go to the zoo to see a butterfly? You see, she would meet at least one butterfly each day. There were more butterflies around her than people she knew, and she could feel connected to the souls of those butterflies more than to direct ties that linked her with the outside world.
She thought of the boy again... would he think about her when he sees a butterfly? Or has he forgotten her completely?
She walked to the park and kept the butterfly on a small patch of grass next to some flowers. She did not want to go away, as if the magic of the butterfly captured her whole existence. She did not want to leave the colors and the wounded wing and dissolve herself in the world of those horrible stenches, fat children and the zoo with captivated animals.
She did not want to leave but she did...so that now she could sit with her fingers flying over the keyboard of her laptop to tell you the story of that day when she found a wounded butterfly in the busy market street.
She wondered where did all the trees go, and then her eyes fell on two huge MCD dustbins. One was grey like the city around her, the other had the green colour of nature. Did they cut down all the branches and buried them in the trash? Uncivilised civilisation vs Organic nature. They burst some crackers after their cricket match last night, but she was not sure who the winner was.
Her thoughts drifted towards the boy who found her swimming in the river eons back. How peaceful and colourful their days were on the desert where he lived. She left her shadow far away and was just a little girl lost in the oceans of the world. But there was no danger involved. Only peace in the heart. Where was the boy today? Did he vanish together with the disappearance of a flight bound to nowhere? Was he still walking in the desert? Or did he lose himself in the wanton pleasures of the city?
As she was pondering so her feet came to a sudden halt. In the middle of a parking space there was a black and blue butterfly lying on the concrete. One of its wings was torn. She picked it up an kept on her palm. She was not sure what to do next but she knew she could not leave this flying painting of nature to a certain death under some heavy vehicle. She still had a vague memory of a film she watched many years back in which a dancing girl breaks her ankle and the magic of a puppeteer turns her into a butterfly. She could very easily identify herself with that girl and butterfly today.
A huge car stopped next to her and a wealthy mother of a fat child ordered in a high pitched voice "Could you please come here? He would like to see your pet. He has never seen a butterfly before, we still haven't taken him to the zoo."
Really? she thought... do you really need to go to the zoo to see a butterfly? You see, she would meet at least one butterfly each day. There were more butterflies around her than people she knew, and she could feel connected to the souls of those butterflies more than to direct ties that linked her with the outside world.
She thought of the boy again... would he think about her when he sees a butterfly? Or has he forgotten her completely?
She walked to the park and kept the butterfly on a small patch of grass next to some flowers. She did not want to go away, as if the magic of the butterfly captured her whole existence. She did not want to leave the colors and the wounded wing and dissolve herself in the world of those horrible stenches, fat children and the zoo with captivated animals.
She did not want to leave but she did...so that now she could sit with her fingers flying over the keyboard of her laptop to tell you the story of that day when she found a wounded butterfly in the busy market street.
