Endgame

The purpose of this blog, sadly ceases to exist.

The world and it's ways

Though the sun rises likewise every morning, each day is different in it's nuances and how life colors the paint book of our lives each day. Just the other day in the evening after the sun had burned himself out for the day and was finding himself a quiet corner to rest his old bones, i was so deeply mournful after contemplating some deeper questions, questions which never have satisfactory answers (or at least the answers you want) i turned to Bubu and asked softly "Bubu, do you think the Sun, Moon and the stars would remain the way they are even if i was not around to feel their presence and did not exist?"

Bubu, who is usually unaccustomed to playing the existentialist philosopher turned towards me and looked in my direction. I tensed to hear the answer, even though i knew there were possibly only two outcomes. She looked at me condescendingly and continued eating her food as though ridiculing my question and the vanity which is implied in all subjectivism.

"Of course, Bubu, how right you are. I must have lost myself for a moment there to think otherwise..." and mournfully continued to brood the rest of the evening as she continued to eat food apace mocking my words and their implication. I scrubbed myself of all doubt painfully the whole evening. Hmm... this bird knows her stuff. Though she's scatter brained, her silence does speak tomes once in a while.

The inexorable march of Winter

When the army of winter prepares it's seasonal marches across lands, conquering everything in it's path, it passes by where i live. The ruthless winter does not sack my town for the inhabitants hastily accept the foreign armies and offer tributes to avoid plunder and pillage. But the march of this army does have some effects, in the way of a slight chill in the mornings.

Alas, little Bubu finds it cold now, she's always looking fluffy in the mornings. Gone are her declarative (though i've no idea what she's trying to tell) squaks which woke me up at dawn, she remains quiet till well after Helios has blessed us with his radiative warmth. Despite the warm sun Bubu emits a low protesting tweet at the ruthless chill which has snatched the warm mornings from us all. Then she seeks refuge in the warm plumage she has been given. She's resigned herself to it though, with a silent stoicism. This is one resilient bird. To think i almost lost her once. The way she fought back left her one admirer even the seasons cannot snatch away, Me.

The queen of the rolled carpet

Helen of troy

My very own...

An amorphous bird

I have seen many budgies now, some are quite intelligent (which is a relative term of course) and some are quite dumb. The smart ones have a personality and have clear likes and dislikes. They explore their surroundings and try to tamper with the external enviroment, a trait i thought only man possessed. This bird is quite a different story. Her thoughts and actions are amorphous, she lacks purpose and amongst the budgies, she's the scatterbrained variety. She fears anything which moves, her aims are to eat well and find a warm corner for herself. Like her personality, her fears are quite amorphous, as when the object of her fear proves him/herself to be friendly, her level of alarm is not ameliorated. I wish she could understand she needs to be a lot sharper than herself. I wish i could. I really don't know where to start.

I just love this bird

I don't know what makes this bird so endearing. Clearly, she is antisocial and is scared of humans. Try to touch her and she begins squaking. She will never be tamed i know. Yet somehow, she has her own safe universe which i have created for her. And that makes her special.