I am : Dealing in Messengers

I am an avid walker. I walk the same route every day, under the same sky, in different weathers, at roughly the same time. By now you must have guessed it, avid was a bit of an overstatement. I have no interest in the daily happenings of my surrounding. I am more interested in the global news, hence the constant scroll of fingers on my phone. I traverse the twitter-verse pretending that my opinion matters and so I present it, one chirping note a time.

I walk past a dishevelled old man who feeds pigeons every day. I give the old man and his business of feeding a second look. I pause. There are breadcrumbs and then there’s the affectionate caressing of the pigeon. The old man has something more for the pigeons than the breadcrumbs. There are tiny scrolls of messages tied to their feet. Intrigued, I approach and throw a question. There was no answer, there was no pause in the activity. The act went on like clockwork while I stared, perturbed. I decided to move on.

“Capitalists of the intellectual nature, filling their crypts with information, to use against the passionate commons, to fulfil their libelist agenda.”, announced the old man to attract my attention. A fellow globalist passer-by in an attempt to rescue me termed the old man as someone who is suffering from dementia. I acknowledged. The pigeons returned for breadcrumbs. The message scrolls were not present.

The words echo in my head as I balance my real life with the digital clone. The twitter-verse fulfilling their timeless self-indulgent agendas, only understand the written words sans the emotions. So, I borrow the inspiration from the old man in form of his words, reverberating every note. I wait. 

In the twitter-verse globalists engaging with my every note, praising my thought process. I bask in their affectionate caresses. My mind echoes the old man’s words and then the passerby’s comment. It wonders.

A tiny scroll of the message carries a different weight when tied to the feet of a different kind of bird.