The Empty Cage

It was raining heavily. I could see the bird cage across the courtyard, perched upon some flower pots. The door of the cage was open and was banging against the wall of the cage. The cage was empty.

I was 6 years old. I remember my Nani talking affectionately to me, feeding me, playing with me. On  evenings when there was no electricity, I remember her face lit up in the light cast by the oil lantern. My Nani loved lighting up oil lanterns. She would give the bed to me and my brother and lay herself on the floor watching us. She would tell us stories and sometimes sing to us. She loved reciting Ramayana to me especially and talk a lot about Lord Rama. She taught me how to light a diya and pray. She took me to Ram mandir with my mother and brother. We used to love running around the big temple.

She used to love applying kajal to my eyes. She would make the kajal herself on warm sunny winter afternoons and she would tell me how she was making it. Once it was prepared she would put a thick layer of kajal on my eyes. I still love putting kajal on my eyes sometimes. Is it because nani used to do that? Was it her who showed me the beauty of it? Maybe I was influenced by her happiness when she put kajal on my eyes.

One day we brought a parrot to our home. Nani was very happy around the parrot. She would give food and water to the parrot, talked to it. I and my brother too enjoyed the parrot's company and were happy along with Nani. 

One evening it was raining heavily. The skies had a thick veil of clouds and we could not see outside clearly. Suddenly Nani started shouting "The cage is open. The parrot is gone".

I tried to look carefully across the courtyard and saw the empty cage and it's door banging against the cage walls. The parrot was nowhere to be seen.

Over the next few days, I saw my Nani quiet and sad. She was missing our parrot and our happy times with it. She kept the cage where it was. With the door open. What was she hoping for? For the parrot to come back?

I looked at a distance. I saw the grove of trees. Maybe the parrot was somewhere out there. With its family and friends. I imagined it playing around happily with its own people. I was happy, for it got its freedom and was where it wanted to be.

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