Maya - The Parrot

It was a beautiful day in the valley. Chilly and overcast. It looked like the world around me was filtered through making every hue appear deeper, every detail appear more intricate. The kid duo prompted me to drive up the hill and drive down upon picking them up - so the influence is slow, but utterly sure. They look for the placement of the sun and the landscape basking underneath. "Look" the first born pointed out - "I see such finer detail and more homes up the faraway hills. I think they are washed out in the brightness on a sunny day" 
There's a saying in my native tongue - about Parrots and the way they speak - It loosely translates to "To which ever nest the parrot belongs, that language it speaks" 

I know, There's no trace of the topic Of Maya the parrot as yet, except this random, useless incident of my day, and this random useless capture I did on my smartphone - but what's a woman to do? I feel compelled to hand hold you through the silliest of my thoughts with the silliest of props.

Yeah, we'll get there momentarily, but to get to Maya the parrot- I need to do a prologue that dates back to my third grade. This was the time when my love for color and painting was emerging. The brand Camlin made a watercolor palette for kids, that was called "Camlin Cadet, students' watercolor cakes" - It had this assortment of fifteen water color tablets and those were my best friends in that day and age up until the day I found a loose wooden bird that fell off of a knick knack that was on my father's working desk in his office. I tinkered with the bird - which was carved out of unlacqured/ unpainted plain wood. So the bird in question that got estranged from her clique had species ambiguity. I got her with me and painted her a few saturated coats of parrot green with the watercolors giving it a crimson beak and collar- the results weren't vibrant and glossy but the easy to please kid was pleased nevertheless. Thus, her new pet Mynah the parrot came into being. Now please do not ask an eight year old why she would call a parrot a Mynah and no, the parrot didn't have an identity crisis. I assure. 

Mynah came with me to school, tucked safely into my pencil box. Yeah, she was tiny. But she packed a big punch of joy with her. On retrospect, I realize I had such rich imagination. I used to speak to Mynah - tell her random things about me and my life. Like I tell this scroll even today - Old habit and all that wisdom, case in point, it is so true :)
So anyway, right there was my yearning to somehow have a parrot for a friend. To hold one, to pet one, to speak to one and like Uncle Cohelo says 


"When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you achieve it."

Surely indeed, the universe took close to a couple decades to materialize this yearning. What you are seeking, is seeking you - Right? right!

Enter Maya.

Maya was a Indian rose ringed parakeet, The exact one I tried to model my Mynah after, years ago. She was the pet of our friend and neighbor's five year old son. When I first learned of Maya and her entry into this household, I couldn't stop myself from paying her a visit. The day I actually got to meet her wasn't sooner as I yearned. So when I went, the family had stories and stories about her quirks, how shy she is and how it is better I enjoy her from a safe distance. 

Who'd have thunk that Maya would make an eye contact with me - an intense 'there you are' kindaa one. And before I knew or someone stopped me, I opened the door of her cage and offered her my hand as a perch. 

Maya came hopping and landed right on my wrist and to the utter surprise of our audience, I find myself settled in the family's easy chair with Maya settled snugly in my lap. As she made herself comfortable, she found a button on my shirt and started pecking at it, punctuating her chore with looking up at me every now and then. Maya felt hollow and was extremely agile - she stomped up and down my torso pecking at the buttons and looking at me as if to watch for my reaction. she and I spent a chunk of time while her family wondered in the background.

"She never does this. Trust us she is so shy"

(I kind of related to what they had to say as my own five year old toddler did the same thing to me once in a while. "She has stranger anxiety" I once told the stranger in the railways station back home when they offered to carry her - and my little baby decided to smile at them and offer her hands to be carried"  Talk about life's little speed breakers ;))

I didn't have much to say to what they said. I was in the middle of feeling like Potter that had discovered that he was a parsletongue. Ever since, Maya and I had our frequent hangouts. Every opportunity I got, I used to sneak out and pay her a visit. In the process of bonding with Maya, I did useless research about parrots and found trivia that is fascinating. No, I won't share any here. Rest assured. I do not want to up the bore-o-meter of this ponder.Or may be it would make this banter interesting - But we'll let it be :)

One day, Maya flew away. Phew....she just made it into the backyard and poof...gone! Domesticated birds aren't supposed to do that. The grandma of the five year old was mighty pleased. She thought it was a torture to have birds as pets. But according to my research, the domesticated birds cannot make it on their own in the wild. Maya metaphorically lived her name. She was here, and then she wasn't. Even till date, I wonder what had happened to her. May be she's one of those oddities that defied norms - that's possibly why she chose to fly away.

"So I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you"


My thoughts drift to Maya every now and then. She's made a very intense childhood dream of mine into a reality. I hope, she's out there somewhere livin it up in her own terms, making her own dreams come true.