<div align="justify">My bedroom window is truly a window to the world, making one marvel at the unity in diversity out there. Sandwiched by houses on both the sides, this is the only private space for our house. There is just a vacant plot behind and we have bamboos all along this particular wall, providing shade and shelter to all kinds of birds.<br /><br />There was this one sparrow, hopping up and down, sometimes surveying, sometimes hiding among the foliage. When somebody posed a rhetoric question, “Where have all the house sparrows gone?” on World Sparrow Day, I wanted to shout, “One is with us!” though I was not sure whether it was a house or a tree sparrow.<br /><br />My afternoon hours were spent watching this tiny little chirpy thing. I assumed that it was a ‘she’, judging by its light brown colour. Like a fussing mom, I also wondered about its loneliness since I couldn’t spot a companion. I had read somewhere that cats are the major predators of these tiny ones, and cats were aplenty in our locality. Still my friend was always there, confirming my belief that god is indeed a great creator. Otherwise how can he not only create such a wonderful but diverse world, but also provide enough space for every being to co-exist in it?<br /><br />Then came one unexpected visitor, unwelcome rather, slithering into our home. Of course, we had heard stories from the neighbourhood about the spotting of these slimy creatures, and also had warnings about their intrusion. The scorching heat had flushed them out and nobody knew where they had been till now or how they escaped man’s eye.<br /><br />As for us, we still can’t figure out how it found its way in. Suddenly, there it was, clinging on to the rough wall, and luckily for us, moving very slowly. Having no clue as to what type it was, venomous or not, it was a harrowing experience for us. After two hours, the good Samaritan snake- catcher arrived, caught it, put it inside a bag, pocketed a fee and left, all under 10 minutes.<br /><br />The trauma and phobia prevailed. Wherever we turned, we saw the creepy object. We were afraid to open the windows, especially my window to the world. We did not want to take a risk.<br /><br />It took us one week to open the window without fear. And one more to realise that something was missing. My house sparrow. And its chirping. Even after three weeks, my winged friend has not made her appearance. “Has it anything to do with my creepy visitor?” I keep asking myself. I know only one theory now: that only the fittest survive.<br /><br />Let the little one come back. Then I will talk about unity in diversity.<br /></div>
<div align="justify">My bedroom window is truly a window to the world, making one marvel at the unity in diversity out there. Sandwiched by houses on both the sides, this is the only private space for our house. There is just a vacant plot behind and we have bamboos all along this particular wall, providing shade and shelter to all kinds of birds.<br /><br />There was this one sparrow, hopping up and down, sometimes surveying, sometimes hiding among the foliage. When somebody posed a rhetoric question, “Where have all the house sparrows gone?” on World Sparrow Day, I wanted to shout, “One is with us!” though I was not sure whether it was a house or a tree sparrow.<br /><br />My afternoon hours were spent watching this tiny little chirpy thing. I assumed that it was a ‘she’, judging by its light brown colour. Like a fussing mom, I also wondered about its loneliness since I couldn’t spot a companion. I had read somewhere that cats are the major predators of these tiny ones, and cats were aplenty in our locality. Still my friend was always there, confirming my belief that god is indeed a great creator. Otherwise how can he not only create such a wonderful but diverse world, but also provide enough space for every being to co-exist in it?<br /><br />Then came one unexpected visitor, unwelcome rather, slithering into our home. Of course, we had heard stories from the neighbourhood about the spotting of these slimy creatures, and also had warnings about their intrusion. The scorching heat had flushed them out and nobody knew where they had been till now or how they escaped man’s eye.<br /><br />As for us, we still can’t figure out how it found its way in. Suddenly, there it was, clinging on to the rough wall, and luckily for us, moving very slowly. Having no clue as to what type it was, venomous or not, it was a harrowing experience for us. After two hours, the good Samaritan snake- catcher arrived, caught it, put it inside a bag, pocketed a fee and left, all under 10 minutes.<br /><br />The trauma and phobia prevailed. Wherever we turned, we saw the creepy object. We were afraid to open the windows, especially my window to the world. We did not want to take a risk.<br /><br />It took us one week to open the window without fear. And one more to realise that something was missing. My house sparrow. And its chirping. Even after three weeks, my winged friend has not made her appearance. “Has it anything to do with my creepy visitor?” I keep asking myself. I know only one theory now: that only the fittest survive.<br /><br />Let the little one come back. Then I will talk about unity in diversity.<br /></div>
