Brown Sparrow with a Golden Heart-A Story

Susha uneasily seated herself next to a girl in her early twenties and a woman with a toddler in her early thirties, she herself being one less than twenty.
Her nostrils filled with mixed aroma of sandwiches which the child now was gobbling hurriedly and stink of strong Shikakai shampoo from her swing partner seated next to her.
The girl being the caretaker of one of the children basking their skins in the late evening sun, playing carelessly without worrying for their unseen future which would be probably filled with work,money,responsibilities, and lots of complications like us adults. The girl was talking in some gibberish language on Reliance cdma phone which offered free unlimited calls along with a hearing-aid problem.
Susha being a psychology student took keen interests in children as they were the most natural beings on earth with no frills attached.
Her attention now turned to those “mod-moms” and “maternal ammas”, “techie and not-so techie daddies”.
She mentally divided them into 6 groups.
One. Plush-office executive mommy dah-lings guiding their maids to play with their children all the while chatting with their hubbies (or boss or lovers maybe)
Two. Serene, relaxed filthy rich housewives fussing over her child (hum do humara ek) afraid he might hurt himself even while he just sneezed!
Three. Maharashtrian and Gujju aai and mummy reciting “Johnny Johnny yes pappa” and “One two Buckle my shoe” again and again till the child threatened to howl and make a free show for the onlookers.
Four. Burkha clad women discussing their household problems and daily sobby-soaps aired on the Indian television, leaving their children orphan like.
Five. Sweet looking aunties with a huge physical profile, jutting sagged their assets showing their growing age and obesity.
Six. Lastly those Maa’s who always scold their child, mock at them whatever may be the circumstances. Later the child turns into a truant or something like that.
Sucha sighed and turned her attention to the nest on that big banyan tree. Hanging Gardens is filled with variety of trees attracting beautiful-feathered birds. Sucha liked listening to koels and sparrows. She paused for a while. Looking at the nest.
She wished. Parents would be more like that sparrow, loving her child unconditionally.
Letting it spread its wings without preaching and threatening its liberty.
She quickly remembered something and smiled.
“Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. They came through you but not from you and though they are with you yet they belong not to you.”
As quoted by Khalil Gibran
And then and there in that much rusted garden bench she decided something.
Shusha would have lots of kids (maybe not more than two as she feared Indian Population outburst) and let them spread their wings wide like that sparrow in the nest.