The tale that collected dust
Disclaimer: This is a true story! I wrote it quite a while back, and it was miraculously rediscovered in one of the forums that I frequently participate. I decided that it belongs here, to be revisited by my future self so she can laugh at my amateurish writing skills.
****
I used to live with my grandparents back in China. My uncle brought a pair of parrots, then gradually the family of parrots increased and our house was always lively with the chatters of birds (even at 4am!) As time passed, we discovered that the lifespan of the parrots living here rarely lasts longer than a year, and we didn't know if it was premature or that birds have a short lifespan. I observed these birds finding companionship in each other, quarreled, had petty fights, and found comfort in each other within the confines of their cage. I also observed some of them lucky ones finding mating partners - lucky, because my parrots seemed to be somewhat selective about their mates. One male and female parrots that one randomly pairs up together doesn't automatically become mates, I've seen.
There was a particular pair of parrots: one was green feathered, and one was blue. There was a long history of mischief and trouble behind the blue feathered parrot - she was the fiercest biter, the most defiant, and the most troublesome when released about the house.
In daytime, I'd release them from their cages so they can fly around the house and experience greater freedom (making sure that all windows are closed, of course.) At night time, I would take a broom in my hand, and the cage in my other, pointed the broom to the birds then to the cage. Some of the smarter birds understood immediately and flew in to the cage, where the other aged, more easily worn out birds is already napping inside the cage. The *other* birds, however, are either dimmer in intelligence or plain defiant. Blue was always one of them. When I try to get other birds in the cage, I'd coax them into my hands (took quite a while to convince them all that it's time to go "home"), then gently guide them down from the windowpanes or where other high place that birds likes to settle themselves on. With blue, however, not only do I have to directly catch her with my hands, but I also have to wear a *glove* lest she bites me and reward me with rabies (she bites damn hard!).
After that, I'd clean the crap that they shitted all over the place. Then go to bed myself. If the birds chattered with themselves among the cages - which they usually do when the moon is full and illuminate their cage, giving them the notion that it's not quite bedtime yet - I'd cover the entire cage with a black blanket and VOILA - all is silent. (!)
One fine day (I was living 3rd floor of a 6th floored apartment), I took the cage of parrots out to the balcony for some sunshine. And on that particular day, my ears picked up something unusual from the bird's usual conversaion (not that I understood any of it). All parrots were singing in unisons at times, or one of these parrots would seem to be yelling out of the cage at some distance, then waited silently. Then my ears would pick up a single parrot call - not from the cage, but from a distance. And soon enough, and sure enough, my eyes spotted the summoned lone parrot flew in the sky, swooping down to the balcony and grasping the side of the cage with his talons. With one look at the freed parrot, I guessed he might have escaped from some other family of pet parrots and didn't know the rules of the jungle. He was dangerously thin, like he hasn't eaten since. He didn't try to escape as my hands wrapped around him and put him inside the cage; if his escape had to do with being caged, then I guess he must have thought he had less to lose back in the cage (than starving to death.)
Gradually this new green parrot's feathers are no longer dull and few from the lack of nutrition. He began to gain weight rapidly (it's AMAZING how fast these birds grow), got acquainted with his new friends, and seemed to be quite content of my once-per-day flight policy around the entire house. The most amazing part, is me seeing my troublesome blue bird-friend got cozy with the new green new-bird-comer, coming each other's fur on the head (the more lonely birds do that by rubbing his/her head against the cage. It's always good to have a partner to wash your back now and then :D), and sleeping with one's head (half-way hiding) under the other's chin. To me, their affection towards each other is quite an enigma - especially on the part of that blue bird, because for one, the newcomer was a skinny weak dude who was recovering from starvation, and my bluebird was a peerless beauty with blue feathers that would make a clear blue sky looks grey and morose (I'm exaggerating, of course. But I'm trying to emphasize on the total inequality of their appearances and their physical attributes.) But then again, what do I know about bird love? I'm not a birdie.
Unfortunately, the green newcomer's heath has deteriorated greatly in his life on the outside. He didn't last more than a few weeks. What happened afterwards was *the* most heartbreaking experience I've ever had. I saw a dramatic change in my usually feisty, aggressive blue bird. She no longer pushed the other birds out of the way arrogantly (because she's kind of big for a parrot. No parrot ever dared to pick on her.) as she made her way out of the cage. She no longer WAS out of the cage at all. She didn't eat AT ALL, and I've no idea how much she slept. She didn't talk, didn't even squeak a single sound days after days. (There really should be a bird therapy/counselling clinic somewhere. I'm serious.) In fact, she's never out of the cage when I set the other birds out of the cage to fly around. I sighed, and dragged her by the tail (I was only 7 years old at that time.) She was a total deadweight as I dragged her out of the cage. I cautiously wrapped my good hand around her thinning body, somehow intuitiously knowing that she wouldn't bite me like she usually did now, and put her on the windowsill among her friends. I then proceeds to go off to elementary school (which takes about 20 steps from my apartment. So usually my grandparents didn't accompany me.) to skip ropes in those fancy ways with the other kids on the playground, trying to outdo each other. But when I finally came home, the bluebird wasn't there. And I was told that she "fell off" the windowsill and died...
It was a memorable moment. Later I find myself comparing human relationships with each other with that of the blue and green and white parrots of the world, and realize it's not the passion or the loyalty or the deepness that we lacked to have a successful relationship...it's simplicity. At 7, I learned to keep some tears to myself. I've cried many tears in front of adults and my peers alike - authentic and fake-tautdrum tears alike, but crying over a bird? Shame on me, thought I, as I laid still under my blanket pretending a deep sleep, and waited until the adults are sound asleep in their own dreamworlds. Then I sneaked out of bed and walked onto the balcony, where I knew my grandmother has thrown the body of the new green bird 3 floors down below, without a proper burial. There I finally released myself there, wondering if grandma has done the same thing to the bluebird...
***
PS. On the other hand, the blue parrot will no longer be able to shit on my head...
****
I used to live with my grandparents back in China. My uncle brought a pair of parrots, then gradually the family of parrots increased and our house was always lively with the chatters of birds (even at 4am!) As time passed, we discovered that the lifespan of the parrots living here rarely lasts longer than a year, and we didn't know if it was premature or that birds have a short lifespan. I observed these birds finding companionship in each other, quarreled, had petty fights, and found comfort in each other within the confines of their cage. I also observed some of them lucky ones finding mating partners - lucky, because my parrots seemed to be somewhat selective about their mates. One male and female parrots that one randomly pairs up together doesn't automatically become mates, I've seen.
There was a particular pair of parrots: one was green feathered, and one was blue. There was a long history of mischief and trouble behind the blue feathered parrot - she was the fiercest biter, the most defiant, and the most troublesome when released about the house.
In daytime, I'd release them from their cages so they can fly around the house and experience greater freedom (making sure that all windows are closed, of course.) At night time, I would take a broom in my hand, and the cage in my other, pointed the broom to the birds then to the cage. Some of the smarter birds understood immediately and flew in to the cage, where the other aged, more easily worn out birds is already napping inside the cage. The *other* birds, however, are either dimmer in intelligence or plain defiant. Blue was always one of them. When I try to get other birds in the cage, I'd coax them into my hands (took quite a while to convince them all that it's time to go "home"), then gently guide them down from the windowpanes or where other high place that birds likes to settle themselves on. With blue, however, not only do I have to directly catch her with my hands, but I also have to wear a *glove* lest she bites me and reward me with rabies (she bites damn hard!).
After that, I'd clean the crap that they shitted all over the place. Then go to bed myself. If the birds chattered with themselves among the cages - which they usually do when the moon is full and illuminate their cage, giving them the notion that it's not quite bedtime yet - I'd cover the entire cage with a black blanket and VOILA - all is silent. (!)
One fine day (I was living 3rd floor of a 6th floored apartment), I took the cage of parrots out to the balcony for some sunshine. And on that particular day, my ears picked up something unusual from the bird's usual conversaion (not that I understood any of it). All parrots were singing in unisons at times, or one of these parrots would seem to be yelling out of the cage at some distance, then waited silently. Then my ears would pick up a single parrot call - not from the cage, but from a distance. And soon enough, and sure enough, my eyes spotted the summoned lone parrot flew in the sky, swooping down to the balcony and grasping the side of the cage with his talons. With one look at the freed parrot, I guessed he might have escaped from some other family of pet parrots and didn't know the rules of the jungle. He was dangerously thin, like he hasn't eaten since. He didn't try to escape as my hands wrapped around him and put him inside the cage; if his escape had to do with being caged, then I guess he must have thought he had less to lose back in the cage (than starving to death.)
Gradually this new green parrot's feathers are no longer dull and few from the lack of nutrition. He began to gain weight rapidly (it's AMAZING how fast these birds grow), got acquainted with his new friends, and seemed to be quite content of my once-per-day flight policy around the entire house. The most amazing part, is me seeing my troublesome blue bird-friend got cozy with the new green new-bird-comer, coming each other's fur on the head (the more lonely birds do that by rubbing his/her head against the cage. It's always good to have a partner to wash your back now and then :D), and sleeping with one's head (half-way hiding) under the other's chin. To me, their affection towards each other is quite an enigma - especially on the part of that blue bird, because for one, the newcomer was a skinny weak dude who was recovering from starvation, and my bluebird was a peerless beauty with blue feathers that would make a clear blue sky looks grey and morose (I'm exaggerating, of course. But I'm trying to emphasize on the total inequality of their appearances and their physical attributes.) But then again, what do I know about bird love? I'm not a birdie.
Unfortunately, the green newcomer's heath has deteriorated greatly in his life on the outside. He didn't last more than a few weeks. What happened afterwards was *the* most heartbreaking experience I've ever had. I saw a dramatic change in my usually feisty, aggressive blue bird. She no longer pushed the other birds out of the way arrogantly (because she's kind of big for a parrot. No parrot ever dared to pick on her.) as she made her way out of the cage. She no longer WAS out of the cage at all. She didn't eat AT ALL, and I've no idea how much she slept. She didn't talk, didn't even squeak a single sound days after days. (There really should be a bird therapy/counselling clinic somewhere. I'm serious.) In fact, she's never out of the cage when I set the other birds out of the cage to fly around. I sighed, and dragged her by the tail (I was only 7 years old at that time.) She was a total deadweight as I dragged her out of the cage. I cautiously wrapped my good hand around her thinning body, somehow intuitiously knowing that she wouldn't bite me like she usually did now, and put her on the windowsill among her friends. I then proceeds to go off to elementary school (which takes about 20 steps from my apartment. So usually my grandparents didn't accompany me.) to skip ropes in those fancy ways with the other kids on the playground, trying to outdo each other. But when I finally came home, the bluebird wasn't there. And I was told that she "fell off" the windowsill and died...
It was a memorable moment. Later I find myself comparing human relationships with each other with that of the blue and green and white parrots of the world, and realize it's not the passion or the loyalty or the deepness that we lacked to have a successful relationship...it's simplicity. At 7, I learned to keep some tears to myself. I've cried many tears in front of adults and my peers alike - authentic and fake-tautdrum tears alike, but crying over a bird? Shame on me, thought I, as I laid still under my blanket pretending a deep sleep, and waited until the adults are sound asleep in their own dreamworlds. Then I sneaked out of bed and walked onto the balcony, where I knew my grandmother has thrown the body of the new green bird 3 floors down below, without a proper burial. There I finally released myself there, wondering if grandma has done the same thing to the bluebird...
***
PS. On the other hand, the blue parrot will no longer be able to shit on my head...