28 November 2013

Grown up

This story is a sequel of the story of an innocent Kingfisher.

Days and nights passed, Kingfisher fed on the tree for food and water, and the tree was fast asleep one day when Kingfisher woke. Not wasting an instance, it flew out, out of the binding leaves amidst the maze of pecks, long and fast to meet the new world. A bright new world where the sun shone, a quite old forest where generations had grown welcomed her. Every single one stared as it came over the banyan. Looking down he noticed mud, dark fine mud uncovered even by grass. Astonished by such loneliness he looked around to meet eyes with a cuckoo. Later explained the cuckoo that the banyan sucks in all the water making it impossible to live around.

The cuckoo had an enchanting voice and the Kingfisher was blue as sky and red as Apple, beak of a pecker and the flight of a sparrow. Alone it roamed half the time feeding on leaves, far from Eagles and cheetahs, alone with the cuckoo for the jungle was too large for her to be caught. The summer went by and brought cool winds, droplets of rain washing everything green. The cuckoo shivered often and the Kingfisher one day urged to ask, "How old are you?" The cuckoo looked, gaped, stared, all this long enough and spoke, "a few weeks to die." it was kingfishers turn to stare back astonished.

A few days later, a morning in the rain it flew back to the cuckoo's home, after the monkey ran the invitation. The cuckoo cooed and the new one woke. An owl he was. His eyes red, his face ever horrifying and his claws tightly gripping the twig. He looked at the Kingfisher and started to speak, uninvited, "eagle, eagle, high and far, no one knows where you are, up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky." The rhyme sounded more read till the cuckoo sang it again, in a voice trembling low. The Kingfisher watched silently. The owl spoke again, in a more grave tone to the Kingfisher again, "as customs put, the Eagles high, struck again and the last parrot was taken. We tell you this for our dear cuckoo is the next. Parrots are gone. We, more specifically, I, am afraid that the change today is fast and Eagles would soon beat us all out. We wish you, for your flight and might, to resist the change, young one”. The nest was silent for minutes, just the drops ticking.

The rain was over, the nest still dry, the cold wind blew sending a chill up the spine of all. Finally, Kingfisher, in his quick witty tone spoke," change sir, I thought is life. One day, rhymes were a change to teach us life. Today we all know the banyan as a grave. But sir, banyan heals, rhymes mislead. Changes are everywhere sir. If there were a parrot wise and old as you alive, he would wish the Parrots live and Eagles die. He would wish the families are intact. But sir, none should remain the same I feel. Also, on my part, the Eagles sir, I can't touch them. I pardon. Let the change live sir, learn to embrace it. That'll be good and easy. And they, the Eagles, won't eat us all. If they do, as all know, they will have none to eat but leaves and themselves. I believe so sir”. owl eyes wide open, deeply thinking, listened.