A bird that forgets to fly.
A BIRD THAT FORGETS TO FLY....... A few days ago, as I was walking back from the library in the evening, I passed by a familiar shop on my way home. It was a bird shop, or at least that’s what it could be called. The sight of it always struck me—cages lined up, each holding a bird, and there were so many of them. I could count at least thirty or forty, all different shapes and sizes, though most of them appeared to be of the same kind—small, delicate creatures. The shop had been there for as long as I could remember, at least seven years now, and its presence was woven into the fabric of my daily life. I remember one day, as I was walking past with my sister, she suddenly stopped and gazed at the birds. “What if they were all set free?” she asked, her voice filled with quiet curiosity. I thought about it for a moment before answering. "Even then," I said slowly, "they would probably die. They don’t know how to fly anymore, and even if they did, they wouldn’t survive i...