That was Tweakie, our Meera’s pet cockatiel (cockatoo?), an intended third voice at ‘Gaadha’. Meera must have thought that Tweakie could meddle with Rema and Rita in her absence. Perhaps, a thought of three is better than two, always! As we entered Meera’s house we didn’t notice Tweakie, in fact. No sooner we sat down and got into the swing of things than she started her ceaseless chirps. And that prompted me to know her more and moved me towards her cage. But she was shy and flew back to the inner walls disowning all the clucks and clicks produced earlier. I thought of pepping her up to the old position of resuming her talks. I explained to her how tweets of these days made the world smaller and closer. All in vain and she didn’t utter a word of her own. That struck me a chord of testing her nature again and I went into hiding. She had a look around and started singing again the very next moment. I enjoyed the tricks she had played on me.
She was celebrating her loneliness in laughing at others and singing. On closer interrogations, she had never admitted to us that she was the source of the cacophony went around.
I was told that as a solution to Tweakie’s loneliness, Meera once brought an alliance to make her busy in her family business. A little old guy of cockatiel family to entertain her into cheers. Perhaps, according to Meera, a paradigm of sartorial elegance in their own winged class. A brightly coloured zygodactyls male with a short hooked beautiful beak and the ability to mimic others. But, to the surprise of all family members, she never bothered to love him. She never made love with him. Eventually, he was found lying dead in a not so fine morning. A resultant flit and flutter, in many a heart outside and inside the cage, leading to nothing, just faded away. No visible or tangible evidence of a fight that would ‘ve taken his life! The follow-up inquiries reached nowhere and Tweakie deserved a benefit of doubt and stood acquitted.
She asked her owners if she would be let free to fly and find the vastness of the world. But Meera said, ”not exactly as you dream, but partially!” That again drowned her in blues when she knew that she was only free from a sin and not from the bars she had been confined to.
Time flew on swift-wings! She resumed her singing slowly.
Her eyes told me, ” you all come for a short while and not only talk too big but talk over my head and go back to your own business. It takes time for me to establish a relationship.
She was right. Are we all wise enough to guess their feelings? Everyone needs a space and sky to fly their thoughts. Do we all have at least a bird’s brain to think of freedom and the skies that create? Why do our thoughts and feelings surround only us and not the others who also breathe the same air? Why are we inconsiderate to all other living beings?
That reminded me of Kahlil Gibran : ” You can muffle the drum/ You can loosen the strings of the lyre/ But who shall command the skylark not to sing?’’