Birds

Three out of four of our lovebirds that my dad let out have come back home. I wonder what happened to the yellow bird. He was the outcast. He didn’t play along with the rest of them. And when these lovebirds were trying to find their way back home, they called each other and recognised the sounds. The lost one nearly made it back too, but were chased away by other birds.

I thought about how my dad left them out, regardless of what I said. He believed that these birds won’t fly away, that even if they did, they would always come back because this is their home. I disagree respectfully.

When the birds left the cage, I wonder what went on their minds.

“We’re finally free.”

“Let’s make a life out here.”

“Let’s get through this storm and find food tomorrow.”

“There’s no food.”

“Where are all the trees?”

“We could die out here.”

“Let’s go back to the prison where we’re safe and sound.”

I hope the yellow bird made it out in the wild. Maybe he has found his people. Maybe he has found a new home. Or maybe I was just fantasising about this imaginative ending because I can’t live with the fact that he didn’t survive. Partly because of what my dad did, but partly because his “friends” didn’t want him to come back home. Isn’t that true with human too?

Sometimes we were kicked out of our home, our city, our country. Sometimes because of what we did, sometimes because of what we are. Will we make it out alone? Or will we get stuck in the storm and lost our way?

I thought about the birds that people set free because of a Buddhism ritual. I saw the little bird at the back of the bike, he was resting in the cage after his friends got out. The door was opened but he was too tired to flap his wings one last time. He knew that if he got out now, he would be back into the cage again and again. So why try? I pray for him to find peace. Maybe he could be a human in the next life. Maybe he will do something to change how people treat animals. Maybe there will be no more “setting free”.

t.l.