The Song Bird

Birdy Bruce lived in the city. His nest was way up along with the others’ on that top most branch. Birdy Bruce loved to sing. He sang in the morning, He sang in the evening, He sang even at mid –day when the others were napping. Birdy Bruce could sing when he was sad, could make the others mad.

“Bruce” they said the other day, “stop singing or leave”. So Bruce left. Crest fallen and all, he flew amid those birches, oaks and cedars. In his head played that soft tune that often came to him at moments such as this.

He had a faint memory of his mom and dad hovering about the siblings –fledglings reminiscing about that glorious past when all the birds were free of fear happily tooting the merry toot, waking up just the two of them in the garden. Those were the days. One day, Birdy Bruce had asked mom to tell him more of that glorious past.

“Oh it is just hear-say for me. It was all a long, long time ago. The story, I hear, has never changed though” she began, visibly happy that her son showed interest in something after all. She and Hubbs, had resolved that Bruce was going to be a scatter brain and not a bird-brain that they hoped he’d be.

How his heart longed for that moment when mama would end it all saying, “so, contrary to popular opinion, we are not just the worm-eating, dirt -picking, pollinating droppers and nothing more that we have become. We have a higher calling, we sing. We bring in the dawn, we make the earth ring with the praises of the Maker.”

There was a moment’s pause in that sad song in Bruce’s head when he thought of the day he determined to pursue his high calling. His mother, out of sheer ecstatic surprise, dropped the nut she had in her mouth. He chose to forget the others’ comment that it was shock.

The song resumed. Bruce had his eyes closed. Did he forget to open them? Did he forget that he was flying, did he not hear the whirr? “Hey watch it bud!” and a thump on his left wing, shook Bruce and left him hovering.

First, he thought it was his mother, then he remembered he was as old and so it can’t be her. Plus, she died a long time ago. Father had sung a dirge and he had thought he’d have done a better job.

“I’m Curie” she said. “I’m better… no… I’m sorry, I’m Bruce”

“Who are you?, Better, Sorry or Bruce?” Curie chirped. Did he hear a chuckle? “I’m Bruce” came the reply.

“What brings you here, Bruce? No one’s come so far down you see?”

“Oh but you have “said Bruce

“Yeah. I just want to know where these animals are going. Two by two.”

“Where? Oh, these animals?” For the first time Bruce set eyes on the bee line these animals were making to somewhere.

“By the way Bruce, weren’t you heading in the opposite direction?”

“Huh? Yeah, I mean yes!

But since I have nowhere to go I choose to fly back to where I came from. And I think I know where these animals are heading to”, said Bruce.

He flew way up and Curie, just double blinked and followed. Without another word, Bruce flew straight to that friendly old man. By now his big boat was ready.

And Curie was overwhelmed. At the friendly old man’s porch, Bruce took his favourite perch and made room for Curie. They were now loading food and my… What huge quantities.

“Did you capture this lady’s heart with your song, birdie?” said the old man when he brought some grains for Bruce and Curie. Curie felt jittery as he came near tried to take off. But she saw Bruce sitting comfortably and so alighted, now, closer beside him. "And you eat this" said Curie as she gave him a look he didn't quite get. 

As Bruce shyly shook his head he thought of that impromptu rap that filled his head as he soared high. He quietly acknowledged the sweet melody that had taken its place as he came to the familiar porch. Almost unknowingly the tune came out of his beak. He couldn’t help but notice Curie’s open-mouthed, wide eyed wonder at his higher calling.

“You are full of surprises” quipped Curie as Bruce finished his number. Just then the friendly old man said, “Hey, it is time why don’t you guys come in?” without another word, both Bruce and Curie went in to the ark.
The world was a different place when they trotted out of the ark. Bruce had discovered his higher calling fully as he hovered over his family replete with those noisy fledglings, teaching them worm-eating and pollinating were serious business that their Maker intended for them specifically. Even as one of his naughty troopers mouthed every single syllable voicelessly, Curie watched and waited for the high_ pitched denouement that indicated the end.