The Nest That complained To The Sky

It was June. The heat in Pakistan was at its peak, with temperatures often above 48. To escape the noise, heat and exhaustion of the city, I decided to go somewhere cool and peaceful for my holidays this year.

The idea of Sydney came to mind, where

The thought of Sydney came to mind, where my old friend Jack lived. I had become friends with Jack in Dubai, when we worked for an oil refinery company. I was a safety officer, and Jack was in charge of security. Our friendship quickly grew because he was a cheerful and smiling man. In Dubai, evening tea, sometimes meals, and the bitter and sweet stories of life brought us closer.Three years later, we returned to our respective homelands. The contact decreased, but the friendship remained heartfelt. This time, I thought, why not meet Jack again? I called him, and he was overjoyed. The next week, I caught a flight from Islamabad to Sydney.

When I landed at Sydney airport, Jack was standing there smiling from afar, holding a banner with my name on it. We hugged, got in the car, and drove to his house. It was 60 kilometers from the city — in a beautiful, quiet place. In front of the house was a large white oak tree, which was incredibly cool to look at.

Jack's wife, Harry, and his two children, Peter and Lena, were very nice people. I had brought them some gifts from Pakistan — toys for the children, and Peshawari slippers for Jack. Everyone was happy.

When I woke up the next morning, breakfast was on the table. After breakfast, Jack and I went outside, and walked towards this white tree. I saw a cute bird with a long beak sitting on the tree. I asked,

"What bird is this?"

Jack smiled,

"It's 'meat'. It comes every summer, builds a nest in the same tree, lays eggs, and then when the babies are able to fly, it goes back."

Jack's children kept grains and water for it every day. The bird had become familiar with them. Sometimes I would also put some grains in it, and it would pick them up with its beak in gratitude and feed them back to the nest.

Every day was peaceful. I spent a month there, close to nature, with the scent of a new life. But one evening, we were all returning from a picnic. As Jack's car approached the house, he saw some people busy cutting down trees. Big saws in their hands, and machines that would knock the tree down in a matter of moments.

Jack stopped the car, got out and talked to them. It turned out that these people were from a government department, and were going to build a housing society here. I felt a pang in my heart, but the real pang came when Peter shouted:"Get out! They're cutting down the tree that has the mammoth's nest on it!"

I saw right away — a man, wearing headphones, was cutting down the same white tree with a saw. Jack shouted from a distance, "Stop! There's a nest!"

We all shouted, but he wasn't listening. A few moments later, the tree fell to the ground with a crash.

We run closer—thee nest was bared inder thee branches of thee tere. Tha mater's babies were lang leflsis.

Seeing that scene, Lena hugged her mother and started crying loudly. Tears come even at Jack's party. I was silent... I didn't have the courage to say anything.

At that moment, the mother bird, who had brought insects for her young, sat down on a branch. She saw her young on the ground — and then... > She turned her face to the sky and began to make sounds.

That voice was neither a common chatter, nor a sound. It was like a complaint — a cry — a question to God. "Oh Lord! Do you see? These are the same humans for whom you made the earth beautiful. But these... these have become independent of every breathing creature."

The mother sat there for a while, then silently flew away.

I never saw that bird again after that day.

A heavy burden remained in my heart. A week later I decided to return. Jack, Harry, Peter and Lena were all sad. I promised to come back next summer.

۔

But to be honest — on the way back, the only sound that kept ringing in my ears was that bird's last cry... and its gaze towards the sky.

Silent message — one that stays in the heart:

> This earth does not belong only to humans. These birds, these trees, these animals — all are its inhabitants. One day, if even a bird turns its face to the sky and complains about us humans — then think, How will we survive?

In conclusion:

If you read this story by heart, then there is only one request: Take care of the living beings around you. Lest tomorrow some mother go to the Lord with a complaint about you too... Thank you!

Author's Note:

This story is based on real events. While I may not remember every word spoken, I will never forget the feeling. I wrote this not just to tell a tale—but to share a silent scream from nature, a plea we must never ignore.

Thank you for reading. abdullah afridi