Sunday, January 13, 2013

Jango's master

This isn't my story but my master's. It's rather my observations on him, his family and the very little I made out of what I saw. It's rather unfortunate that I am choosing the day after his death to narrate this tale.I am practically bored and no one paid any attention to me for two days since my master's death and when they did, they didn't think of feeding me or changing my water. I don't know what my fate will be, but I thought story telling was a good activity to activate my brain and keep myself from dying of boredom. I am an African grey parrot from Central Africa. I am considered quite intelligent for my ability to speak though humans consider it just an ability to mimic. I know quite a few words even before picking up this funny Indian language of my master. But he took great delight telling his friends he trained me to talk. He was a man of vanity and I loved him for the love he lavished on me. After all how many master's get their parrots mixed fruit juice and assorted nuts. So I decided to play my cards. I called out 'Jesus' and 'Treasa' two words that made my master beam with pride though the frequently used words by him were moron, donkey and shit head. The elder daughter of my master named me Jango. I was happy that it did rhyme with tango but then I overheard her telling her friends it was the name of a pigeon from some Indian movie starring a funny guy. I hate pigeons because they have no sense of hygiene, they shit around and insult our species of birds. I am toilet trained and mind it I never shit on the railings. My shit falls directly into the plate placed beneath my railings.
My life on a daily basis was quite mundane. Master came in to feed me. He talked, cooed and I enjoyed the only human contact that came my way. Trease his wife wasn't a pet lover but she did smile and wave and call my name from the kitchen next to my bathroom. The eldest daughter was an animal hater or she hated the attention I got. She was the only one who paid no attention when the others got around me to help me spit the chickpea I choked on. My master took care of me like a kid, he cleaned my shit and read books on me to help me feel more homely. I was beginning to like this guy especially after his family shifted to India and he sat there and talked to me about them.To please him I even did the balancing act of walking from his shoulder to his extended arm. This had sort of become the prime show when his friends gathered for a drink.

But that night he did not get me out, I could hear papers rustling, glasses clinking but I was not brought out. I never saw light for the next two days. I could here footsteps, people mumbling but nothing was clear enough to decipher my loss. And then they barged into my room broke the toilet and frantically searched for something. I saw them rip the carpets searching for a clue all along. They were cops I deciphered, trying to find why my master was killed. And then came master's nephew who fed me some water and seeds. They were clueless about my affairs, my daily routine. I could not be mailed to India, that was paper work and noone wanted to do extra paper work. They were shipping master but maybe his family did not ask for me. Must be that stupid elder daughter who decided affairs. I didn't see his body  had I been in the crime scenes sat there in a corner I could have seen the face of that one man whose anonymity would taunt them all for the rest of their life. For I was far more intelligent than they all thought. Only if they let me out.

Jango was a bastard now. He had no family, no more assorted nuts, no passion fruit or mixed fruit juice. Would I end up in one of those pet markets? I wish I went somewhere I could receive my daily food. The nephew and few friends came in. They were to pack of stuff that went with master's body. "What will happen to the bird?" asked the nephew. "Noone wants to buy it because it comes from a house where the master was murdered", said the friend. That's stupid and how foolish can human beings be, I thought to myself. " For that matter nobody wants to rent this house", said the friend. " But leaving this bird all alone?", asked the nephew. " I guess we have no option but to let it fly". No you morons I screeched but they gave me more nuts to eat. I cant fly and its so hot where will I find food?, this is no place to leave me to fly, take me to Africa, ship me there, give me to the pet market, I continued screeching as they held me and walked towards the window. They caged me when I was free and now they set me free when I can't fly how stupid can human beings be? I turned around for the last time and could see nothing but the marking of master's body made by the police. I really loved that guy, I thought to myself and then spread my wings to fly.

What would happen to his other pets, the guinea pigs, rabbits, ducks- they can't fly. Would they...... the thought made me stronger and I flew with all my might. I''ll never forget 'Treasa' and 'Jesus' and the nuts and the juice..................


Sony Paul Peter said...

:) excellent.

Sudheesh said...

You bring freshness to your writing each time!