A Clamoring Dream

“Come Fly with us, make the most of the open lock. Fly again!” The clamor broke out again; all with big and expectant eyes on me.

 I, with my recently shampooed cyan coat shinning and the strong crimson beak even more crimson in the morning rays, was perched well on the much-like-a-wooden-log stand, brooding over the options given to me to decide within a few seconds before the lock is done again. A golden steeled cage let loose from the ceiling, in his bedroom’s balcony, was my abode; my latest abode. One side was the open sky beyond the rods of the cage and the rods of the balcony grills and on the other side was the vastness of his room.

Stop brooding over, just Fly Away!

Today, all the senior members and the most learned of all that perched on the rod of the grills of the balcony had come to advise me. I was looking for my friends, the ones who would visit me every day and picked up an unsaid relationship; the ones more like me, but free. Today, the assembly had come on the grills of balcony, with everyone finding it difficult to balance on the sleek rods shaped in various forms to make the grill look more artistic. All the assembly squawked on me to let go the cage and embrace the nature; get into the wild.

I could hear the heart’s thudding and feel the pressure shooting up. For me, how could I leave all this, I have been with him for more than half of my life, he has made my childhood beautiful, he seldom locks me up. I’ve a comfortable life here, I’ve a swing, a pond for myself, the whole cage, variety of food, then what else would anyone want more? But the stories of my friends from across the grills of the balcony, the vast flying experiences, the kiss of the breeze, the flight in the rain, the chase, getting chased, falling in love, raising a family, singing the tree songs, the family-flying dance, the color of the seasons, all these seem like a beautiful dream to me. Meanwhile, the heart pounding so heavily as if to bludgeon someone to death. I had a narrow window of time to sneak out before he wakes up and loves me again for me to forget the world and sing for him and only him.

On a whim, I couched and got out; and suddenly, the clamor rose and turned into a big applaud. We took flights. I followed!

Felt the air above and below the wings, the use of wings. The heaving in air with the breeze until a smile broke my frown. I loved it!

“No, Stop!” I woke up with one hand in the space, in an upright position to stop my parrot, my beloved parrot, from leaving me forever. It took me a while to break the reverie and realize that it was just a nightmare.  I didn’t even pet a parrot but there still was the clamoring from across the curtains, deep in the balcony. I slid it through to see a few parrots perched on various levels of grills trying to get a mouthful of the food and water that I had stacked up a week ago in a pair of bird-feeder hanging loosely on the grills for the birds to savor on.

I, now, had regular visitors – birds of various kinds and species – in the balcony ranging from a Sparrow to a cute Maina, to Pigeons and obviously Parrots. These birds filled my mornings with eclectic melodies. I gave them food, they made my day. It is delightful to have them everyday and know them more and vice-versa. Now, my presence don't scare them away. They know me!

After all said and done, what was that dream about?

Do I really wish to break-free myself and fly again leaving everything behind?

Follow Dreams? Like Parrots? Like birds?

Dreams, I tell you!  

Sing it, Nation!

What is it like standing in dark, with hundreds of people, shoulder to shoulder, crooning a melody?

I came vis-à-vis the melody, crooned in the dark with scores of people standing upright, the last time I went to watch a movie – The Martian –  in the PVR cinemas just across my home, with my family. I wasn’t unfamiliar with the regulars of a cinema that runs before a feature presentation begins; in fact it was mundane! This time though, the set of actions that I ran through were unprecedented.

I, on a Sunday evening, was among the few lucky ones to have had our seats reserved – God bless internet booking! To the likes of every family, the father and the son were ready before time and the mother and the daughter were dilly dallying over what to wear. We were late!

Now, thanks to PVR cinemas for providing a buffer of fifteen minutes; full of movie trailers and undesired commercials.

 Sing it, Nation!

We got into the auditorium when some commercials were going on. I helped myself assume my seat next to a lady who had got the whole row occupied with a dozen or more children, whom I couldn’t fathom, again, because of the dark.

It is mandatory to play Jana-Gana-Mana, India’s National Anthem, before any movie begins. No sooner had I got myself comfortable than the big screen flashed – Kindly stand-up for the National Anthem. I stood up!

Now there runs an unsaid protocol wherein one needs to stand-up in order to pay respect when a National Anthem is played, be it of any country. If one doesn’t stand-up or is lazing around, then the moral policing eyes of the people, who are standing, whether in real respect or not, will give a look of disgust that would pierce deeper than a dagger and compel you to stand-up; often this moral policing is done by the people who doesn’t get a head or tail of patriotism or its values.

I often valued these principles at mediocrity, but was always pro-active at such occasions, however brief they maybe. I stood up! My parents and sister, would either hum or croon the anthem with me grinning at them. I didn’t! I didn’t because I couldn’t as I believed I would kill the harmony and also a part of mine was hesitant.

The National Anthem began, as melodiously as it could get, with some old and lazy people still managing to get on their feet. A big tricolored flag flashed heaving on the screen. I looked towards my right, my folks had already began humming and me showing them my teeth in the dark in a very awkward standing position. It was nothing new. I was surprised when I heard the croons coming from my left. The noble lady with all the children was crooning it with all having their right hand on their respective chests. They all were so enthusiastic and so true to themselves. Their singing had purity and was rose-water bathed. It was serene!

Slowly and steadily, the rows ahead and behind ours picked it up and gradually went up to almost each and every one picking up the rhyme to either humming or crooning it. I was mesmerized by such unprecedented happenings in the auditorium brought by those bunch of children and a lady, supposedly their teacher.

The 52 seconds rhyme had its effect on everyone. I, though picked it up late, maybe last, but got along and hummed it if not sing the remains of the anthem. Nostalgia groped me; took me to the days of school, long missed, where we all would, every morning, sing some prayers and our national anthem with so much of pride and so much of love, incredulously; which only got layered under the saw-dust of mundane activities of growing-up.

Later, in the intermission, I figured out that those children were differently abled. I kowtowed in reverence!

p.s. The National Anthem with the differently abled school children and the one with the Army officials at the Siachen Glacier are the best as per me.