She Is Now Just A Caged Bird

I had a pet parrot. It was always kept in a cage. Once, I thought of opening the door and allowing it to fly away. I did what I wanted to do, but to my surprise, my pet didn’t even want to walk out of her cage. It sat there as if she was not interested in what was happening to her or as if she was too exhausted to even try and save herself. I felt she had learned to live happily in her captivity like most of us.

I still remember the day I bought her. She was so angry. She won’t be silent for a single second. She made it sure that none of us slept and went on to make annoying noises the whole night. The next day, she had a new strategy, i.e., a hunger strike. The kids were on the edge of crying and were ready to do anything for the sake of our new friend.

I used to call her Mirchi. She was an intelligent creature. She knew the correct way to irritate people. She used to test my patience level regularly. The worst time was when she started to hurt herself in pursuit of freedom. She would fly into the congested cage and hit the pillars of the cage. Sometimes with so much strength that she used to bleed, but she never stopped trying. Every morning she used a new technique to get out of her cage. But as the days passed, her strength and her body refused to bear any more pain. She used to lie in the corner of the cage.

I couldn’t bear the pain, but I was helpless. Even though I wanted to set her free, I didn’t want to hurt my kids’ feelings, so I planned something new. In my courtyard, I had a small garden where I had a few trees. In between those trees, I requested my carpenter to make a cage big enough for three of four parrots to fly around. I think my mirchi also appreciated my effort and started to enjoy its new abode. Now she had a place to sit, walk, drink, eat, and rest. I thought, like all married couples, my mirchi understood the magic word ADJUSTMENT and, without any noise, it started to live a life of silence.

I used to miss her annoying sounds, I used to talk to her regularly but felt sad that I never saw the same fire in her when I bought her. Then I decided to leave her. Even if it becomes the food of any predator I just wanted to live a life of freedom. But my Mirchi was exhausted by her struggles that she was not even ready to try. She had compromised to the life inside the cage so perfectly that a thought of a single flight was life-threatening to her. She stopped flying altogether. She used to walk in her new cage from one corner to the other.

I lost my mirchi. She was now just like any other caged bird who just wanted to finish their few last days peacefully.

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