“The difference between you and me?” Srijiv remarked, as he softly held the wounded bird in his palms and applied medicine to its wings.
“The difference between you and me is you … see a bird flying in the sky, free, happy, singing… your attraction turns into a bullet you bring it down, kill it. Or you build a trap, capture it, put it in your cage and expect it to sing as per your whim and fancy. If it stops singing you roast it.”
“I on the other hand try to repair the damages people like you do…”