Ever since I met the strange man that we all know plays a very important role in my transformation into a routine bird watcher, I contemplated for weeks whether I should try it or not. I mean, what was birdwatching supposed to make me feel? To me, that was a hobby for the rich and those who didn’t have important stuff to do with their time, and luckily for me I was neither.
As usual, I would go from interview to interview without as much as a shred of hope that there would be light at the end of the tunnel. After some time, I stopped hoping altogether. I just went to those interviews so that I would drink without guilt, I was trying, wasn’t I? I did not have any cash flow, so I even thought about selling the damn thing for a few shillings. So, I went to the local dealership which dealt in electronics and made my offer.
“You want to sell this pair of binoculars?” The man asked me.
“Of course, why would I bring it to you then?” Some people are just so stupid.
“Where did you get this?”
“It’s none of your business, are you buying or not?”
“Young man, calm down. I have to ask these questions if I am to buy it from you.” He said.
“Then let me sell it elsewhere.” Interviews left, right, and center, and they all amounted to nothing.
Everywhere I went I received the same treatment. It was like those people didn’t want to buy the thing. How useless! I thought to myself.
I later came to realize that the binoculars were mostly used by people in the intelligence sector, so it was very uncommon. Perhaps that is why those people didn’t want to buy it. My plan had blown up on my face, so I had to find another option. In my experience, for every problem, there is a solution if only we are patient enough to look for it. Time. That was one resource I had in plenty.
One evening, I went to the rooftop of my apartment to smoke some cigarettes, and to breathe some fresh air. Against my better judgment, I decide to take the binoculars with me. There were young couples at the rooftop, most of them exploring the sexual side of their relationship with new instances. Must be nice, I thought. They shot weird looks, as if I cared. I lit a cigarette and decided to see just how far the damn thing could look. I adjusted it properly and started scanning from rooftop to rooftop. Wow, the precision on that thing! I could see young couples and single men like me on the other rooftops smoking and chatting away casually, and for a moment it was like I was there with them.
I was fascinated by the clarity of it all. I started watching people almost every evening, trying to decipher what it was they were telling each other. If I was calm enough, I could see someone getting mad way before the other person noticed and it was amazing to me. Most of us never look at the other person when we are talking to them as if it is a chore that we can’t wait to get over with, and that really sucks. Try talking to someone today and watch for the little cues that they show you without them even knowing, and the sky will be your starting point in human endeavors.
I simply couldn’t believe that the binoculars was such a cool gadget. I remembered what Arthur Schopenhauer said, “Everyone takes the limits of their own visions for the limits of the world.” It was amazing how that quote made so much sense, and not just concerning the pair of binoculars. What if, up until then, I was looking at the world from the lens of the limits of my own visions? What if, like the binoculars, I only had to give the world a chance and it would surprise me? I was and have always been a deep thinker, but most of the deep thoughts I had were the practical ones and the philosophical ones, and none of them were directly related to me and my life like the thoughts I had that day. For once, I didn’t look forward to that drink, or to that smoke, and for almost a week, I didn’t drink nor smoke.
Remember all that time, I hadn’t watched a single bird, but the ends justify the means, right? By watching people, I understood the fundamental law of human nature, even without having to read a book by Robert Greene: Humans wear masks in all their interactions, they are only genuine like 10% of the time. It was also what the mystery man tried to tell me, wasn’t it? “Oh, and because birds don’t wear makeup.” Replaying the happenings of the day I met the man, I was filled with the urge to start watching birds, I mean things were finally starting to make sense, weren’t they?
On 1st July, I started my bird watching journey, and what better place to start the journey than where it all started, no pun intended or whatever. I went to the bench where I met the mystery man, and I just sat down for almost an hour without removing the binoculars from my bag. I just wanted to savor it all, the people, the fresh air, the green grass, the dogs, and the sky. They were all so beautiful. Suddenly I was engulfed with the never-ending curiosity of young children, and it was the missing piece I had been looking for in liquor dens and brothels. Isn’t it amazing how a child would look at a butterfly like it has just arrived from the heavens? Like God himself had dropped the thing into the world, and the child had been given special access before everyone else? Kind of just like God makes a rose flower the same way, over and over again, without tiring, and he stays young, while we grow old and die.
I saw Metis the following day, because the first day I didn’t watch anything, not even humans. The man had said, ‘Ignore the people, they are not worth it,’ but I had had my fill of people because I had watched them for almost three months, and the most important lesson I learned is that they’re very unpredictable. There she was, scraping at the sidewalks for food, with that now or never attitude, and she reminded me of how hard my mother used to work for us to get the basics, even though our father was there. He spent most of childhood years in liquor dens and brothels. Thinking it made me so ashamed, I had become exactly like my dad, like Charles Bukowski liked asking, “Are you becoming that thing you hate?” Yes sir I was, but I want to change.
I wrote Metis’ journal that same day, I just thought it would be a fun exercise to get into her head. The journal read:
“My fledglings are still asleep. Yesterday they ate only once and it was a piece of bread I had found near that restaurant at the highway. The man was not kind at all, he threw stones at me, and one missed my back by an inch. God! I saw the power of death over life, and I was most afraid. Not of my own life but that of my fledglings. The little bread I had salvaged fell down as I was fleeing, and just a tiny bit remained. I gave them the bread and tried to play with them to make them forget. I realize that it is better to have the warmth of a mother’s love than the warmth of a full stomach, for both have the same effect, the latter carrying more weight of course. I slept hungry, but hearing the snores of my little ones is all the food I will ever need.
I woke up early, the early bird catches the worm as humans say, but the problem is that there are no worms in this place. I have been flying from one place to the next without as much as a grain thrown my way. I decided to visit the park, if not for the food, at least for the view. A man came and sat at the bench next to the sidewalk that I was scraping, and he looked at me. I mean really looked at me. He was so calm, the kind of calm after the storm. He must have gone through hell, but he made it out. I wish I had that kind of calmness. He looked at his bag, and oh boy, he threw two slices of bread my way. Was he for real? I was too desperate to think. My stomach was rumbling with hunger, the thought of my starving fledglings made my feathers weak, so you see, I had no choice. I ate a few pieces and decided to take the biggest piece my feeble frame could manage and flew to my fledglings.
For some reason, I knew that the man would watch the remaining slices for me, he seemed to be in no hurry, and he had goodness in him, something I haven’t encountered in the few years I have known humans. I decided to take Athena and Apollo to the park so that they can eat for themselves. It is about time I start teaching them how to fly, and so we went back. Resting after every minute because they are not very strong yet, mostly because of insufficient feeding. The man was still there, and he threw another slice for us, and then he got a pen and a notebook and started scribbling something down. We just ate to our fill and we left, Athena’s stomach was so full she couldn’t even fly, but Apollo was strong, so I only had Athena to worry about. This was the best day ever. I hope the man comes again tomorrow.”
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