That yellow parrot
It used to be chilly in those hours , most of the people dreaming wrapped in their blankets, the sun spread its illuminated wings knocking the panes of the windows through crevices, the birds chirping magnifying the onset of the day and I paddled my way cutting through the frozen winds inching towards my future-shapers. The house on the left seemed a mansion, a mansion with a magnificence of the artistic bounties but lacking the human warmth, the white mansion plunged into darkness. The caged yellow parrot hanging in the balcony of the top floor had a story to narrate but the voice got troddened in the mediocrity of the globe. It fluttered its wings only to oscillate the hanging cage... the cage was too sturd for his existence. The door opened and a human figure appeared on the scene , a faded beauty with greyishness beyond her age, a charismatic charm dwindled in her scars of everyday's trauma. The red colour of her lips had shifted its reddishness towards the corner. She seemed dismally fighting for her existence , fluttering her own wings beside the yellow parrot.
The following day I slowed my paddles just to derive the analogy between the parrot and the lady. Both looked equally tormented and scarred with the cluttered wings and shrinking cage, allowed to breathe and feed on the crumbs thrown onto them. The days passed by but the streak continued and neither of them could break the shackle , the demarcations created by their owners. The parrot kept loosing its feathers as she the lady continued to loose her soul. Both shrieked their stories but the world kept moving on its pace.
The dawn had something different to serve. The birds' chirping was penetrating the ears, the sun's rays were brighter than ever, the dogs' growling howled through the glory of the coming days but the crows circling above the dark mansion suggested some omens. When inched near the mansion, the crowd was bewildered and judgemental at the same time. They chanted the same line over and over again,"the wife killed the husband". I looked at the yellow parrot, my eyes scavenged through the whole balcony but could trace , the cage was hanging there empty , full of air and crumbs, the yellow feathers floating in the background. I again heard someone saying,"the wife killed the husband", I overruled them in my head, "No, a bird was freed from her cage".
It used to be chilly in those hours , most of the people dreaming wrapped in their blankets, the sun spread its illuminated wings knocking the panes of the windows through crevices, the birds chirping magnifying the onset of the day and I paddled my way cutting through the frozen winds inching towards my future-shapers. The house on the left seemed a mansion, a mansion with a magnificence of the artistic bounties but lacking the human warmth, the white mansion plunged into darkness. The caged yellow parrot hanging in the balcony of the top floor had a story to narrate but the voice got troddened in the mediocrity of the globe. It fluttered its wings only to oscillate the hanging cage... the cage was too sturd for his existence. The door opened and a human figure appeared on the scene , a faded beauty with greyishness beyond her age, a charismatic charm dwindled in her scars of everyday's trauma. The red colour of her lips had shifted its reddishness towards the corner. She seemed dismally fighting for her existence , fluttering her own wings beside the yellow parrot.
The following day I slowed my paddles just to derive the analogy between the parrot and the lady. Both looked equally tormented and scarred with the cluttered wings and shrinking cage, allowed to breathe and feed on the crumbs thrown onto them. The days passed by but the streak continued and neither of them could break the shackle , the demarcations created by their owners. The parrot kept loosing its feathers as she the lady continued to loose her soul. Both shrieked their stories but the world kept moving on its pace.
The dawn had something different to serve. The birds' chirping was penetrating the ears, the sun's rays were brighter than ever, the dogs' growling howled through the glory of the coming days but the crows circling above the dark mansion suggested some omens. When inched near the mansion, the crowd was bewildered and judgemental at the same time. They chanted the same line over and over again,"the wife killed the husband". I looked at the yellow parrot, my eyes scavenged through the whole balcony but could trace , the cage was hanging there empty , full of air and crumbs, the yellow feathers floating in the background. I again heard someone saying,"the wife killed the husband", I overruled them in my head, "No, a bird was freed from her cage".
✍️Rohit Raj
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