Chapter 3

Anshuman, 42 years old, was driving back home in his Honda City. His ten-year-old son was riding shotgun and doing his best to take off the seat belt.

“Don’t do that, it’s dangerous,” He warned his son gently.

Pran, his son, cocked his head in Anshuman’s direction and let out a naughty smile. He had just been playing around at first, but hearing his father forbid him, awakened the boy’s mischievous persona and knowing how to unlock the belt, he did just that.

They were just about to take the turn and enter the gate of their colony but even so, Anshuman didn’t like his son playing around like that on such a serious issue notwithstanding the fact that Pran was just a kid. Se he ordered his son to wear the seat belt who straight up shook his head.

While this drama was being enacted in the car, high up on a building, Feng and Huang perched on the walls and gazed at the three chicks of theirs who had taken flight a moment before. Huang, calling out to them with a high-pitched whistle, took flight.

Feng, who had been feeling very weak for quite a few days now, launched himself into the air a second later. But just as he was beginning to beat his wings, his eyes became unfocused, he felt dizzy and lost all feeling in his wings.

Calling out weakly, all Feng saw was the blurred shape of Huang before his eyes closed forever and his body went hurtling towards the ground.

Meanwhile, Anshuman tried to stretch himself to grab his son’s seat belt and took his eyes off the road for one fatal moment.

The next moment, a loud thump from the forward direction made him turn around and though his eyes registered the fallen bird on his windscreen, he pushed the thought away because a white van was racing out of the gate in front of them. It was nearly upon them.

Anshuman grabbed the wheel and twisted. Somehow...by some miracle, their car managed to avoid the collision by a hairsbreadth and the van sped away on its way.

Casting a glance at his son, he saw Pran was shaking. Taking a minute to calm down and stop his hand from shaking, Anshuman caressed the boy’s hair.

After he was sure that his son was okay, he remembered the bird. Parking the car near the footpath, he got out and carefully tucked the dead kite into his arms.

Hearings shrill scream, Anshuman looked up and found a figure circling high overhead making soft whistling sounds. There also seemed a few more small birds around but they were too high up for him to count. Softly setting down the body where it would be easily visible to any creature in the sky, Anshuman opened the door of his car.

Before entering, he cast one look at the motionless body of the black kite and thought sadly to himself.

What would have happened if this little guy hadn’t fallen onto my windshield? Truly, our lives are so similar. So fragile yet so precious. Truly, there isn’t much difference in the lives of birds and humans.

And as Anshuman drove away, Huang landed beside her mate’s body as did her three children. One of them tried to poke the body using its beak and made low whistling sounds.

Huang just gazed at Feng’s limp corpse, uttered a mournful shriek and took flight, flying faster and faster away; her cries of grief echoing far and wide...

*****

Friend 1: Why…? Why did you...?

Narrator: Around 22 years, was it not? Anshuman said it, life is fragile, my friend. It’s short...but still very, very precious. It was just a quirk of fate that Feng fell on the car and Anshuman could react quickly. It was just a quirk of fate...

Friend 1: I don’t mean that! Why did Feng have to die?! Was it not their story? Or are you saying that life is just this...insignificant?!

Narrator: When did I ever say it was the story on the lives of birds? This story...it’s on life itself. And it hasn’t finished just yet. Whatever may come, life goes on...even if you die; there are others who live. And no life is insignificant (smiles sadly), life is...just itself. Life is what you make of it.

Friend 1: But-

Narrator: No buts. It is up to you how you judge someone’s life...including your own. But that doesn’t mean your interpretation is correct. One person’s life can teach us many things; it just depends on who sees which part of it and how they interpret it. C’mon, the final chapter beckons; let us see what awaits...