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Weary at the day’s proceedings, unfortunately like many other days, I sneaked out from the office floor for a quick breather. Day long I have been witness to and sometimes been a reluctant player to the many acts of the office drama and was in a positive danger of being choked to death of sheer frustration. Thinking of a brisk walk being the only remedy to release the pent up feelings and negative energies I ventured outside under the scorching sun of a summer afternoon of a typically tropical city of mine.

Lost completely in my thoughts I took one of the alleys at the right hand side and was walking slowly, summer sun pinching my skin now.  I did not go far. All of sudden sounds of wings flapping made me look up subconsciously. Three palm trees were standing there, planted in a triangular configuration, forming a little shade between them, just behind the hedge that lined the lane. And a water-filled old earthen pot was lying there, perhaps abandoned and then completely forgotten by the gardener. The floral patterns of its glory days still somewhat discernible, the pot was filling itself from the water used for quenching the thirst of the garden. Little sparrows, at least four of them, were swooping down plunging into the water, splashing it outside the pot and in the process thoroughly enjoying the bath in the sweltering heat. Happily they were shaking the water off their feathers then again were taking a dip only to come out and repeat the process all over again, tweeting all the while in merry synchronicity. It seemed to be more of a well choreographed dance routine by the little birds whose joy and energy out of the performance was infectious enough to soothe the mind of this only observer.

 

 

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