The Tired Traveller

It is a brutal world that we live in. Everything points towards the inherent cruelty of life. Even the sweltering heat of the summer seems to be a metaphor for that feeling. Life has become a race, a race where the finish line does not exist. We chase invisible dreams and are forever left with a feeling of longing. We are left unfulfilled. We travel the world, we work tirelessly, and we swim in the sea of life and fly into the expanse of the universe in our inexhaustible quest to become a fictitious version of ourselves. We are travelers.

As I stopped momentarily at a traffic light, my jaded mind wandered aimlessly and I looked around. This is the same light that I have stopped pretty much every single day for the past three years but for some reason, never saw what I did today. It was a reflective sight, in the sense that the image reflected the thoughts in my head. I wondered whether the birds were a manifestation of our place in this world. Whether they were a surreptitious message asking me to pause of take a deep breath. The birds seem to be doing just that. The birds tell me that sometimes, all that a tired traveler needs is a little break in your journey.