Today is hotter than the other days. The heat feels more exasperating on my black feather as black absorbs more heat. Pigeons are still flying restlessly up above where I am fully exhausted by the heat and pandemonium of this city. Sitting on an electric pole by the road, I'm keeping an eye on the proceedings. Day by day, the city is becoming a luxurious haven for our kind. There is never scarcity of food in this city. Rotten and delicious filth is thrown everywhere by humans. Earlier this day I heard from someone, sitting beside me on the pole, that there would be a grand feast on the roads today. I was going to ask him about the menu when he abruptly took off. What an eccentric fellow! Doesn't he have basic courtesy?
Anyhow, I was keeping an eye on the proceedings. Later I overheard two dogs, ransacking a dustbin, saying that there was an upsurge of turbulence among the humans. Then, by my acute deducing power, I more or less figured out the menu of the feast. This is why I'm so apprehensive to find out the feasting spot. This type of grand feast doesn't come around every day. So I have found a suitable spot, on the pole, from where I can keep an eye on all the streets.
I can feel the air getting hot below. There are two groups of hooligans flocked on two ends of a street, shouting and swearing obscenities at one another. Most of them are holding shiny, sharp objects in hands. Suddenly one group attacks and the other group follows. In the blink of an eye the two groups collide. It seems as though hell has broken loose. Blood stench and human yelling have made the environment heavy. The road is awash with blood, and sandals and torn clothes are scattered on the road and pavement. I like this menu. This will taste splendid!
But I wonder why these men would fight and maim their own kind. Maybe they are two different species of the same genus. So they must taste different. My beak overflows with saliva. I can't wait anymore and so I take a leap. I land near an opulent man and help myself to the day's meal. Hmm, it tastes good. Being finished with him I move to another on the other end of the road. Hey! There is something wrong. I move to another spot then another then another. These people all feel the same, bleed the same, and smell the same as well! Then why do they threaten each other's lives the way they do? How can they tear their own kindred apart? Why?
The writer is a class 12 student at Sylhet Cadet College.