What Do You Owe Me? Part 2
When he regained his consciousness, he was lying on the bank with
numerous birds - pink with long legs, white with a large beak and large
wings, black with yellow beaks and spotted in black and white, green
ones with red beaks and yellow tails - surrounding him. The lake gently
washed Akhand's head with its lapping waters. The sun shone gently,
warming Akhand's wings. As soon as he opened his eyes, the birds whooped
with joy. And they whistled and chirped and cheered.
The big white bird walked up to where Akhand lay and looked at Akhand's
eyes, rubbed Akhand's head and then declared him ready as a reed. Ready
to try to fish again, she said. The big bird's name was Hansa and she
promised to teach him. So he learnt to fish from Hansa, and he learnt to
suck nectar from the flowers from Chirpy, and he learnt to fly like he
had never flown before. He learnt to dive into the water and rise out
again. And he learnt to speak to the other birds.
Yet he did not feel as sophisticated as the others. There was something
lacking about him. He was just an ordinary brownbird. And so he lived in
this beautiful country, happy and yet sad.
One day, right after his morning dive, even as his wings were wet, he
had this urge for something sweet. So he flew towards the fields of
green and red, to suck some nectar from the sweet red flowers. And as he
fluttered near the flowers, sucking their nectar, the red powdery layer
from the flower stuck to his wet wings. There he was, brown wings with
red streaks. Beautiful like he had never seen before. He stopped
fluttering and looked at his wings. And he admired them. Oh, did he look
handsome. It was the most handsome of colors, he thought. Red streaks on
his brown wings.
So he rose from the fields and flew towards the lake where the other
birds were having their afternoon nap. Look at me he chattered. Look at
me. Look-at-me. Oh don't I look handsome.
The white Hansa looked up. Yes, you do my friend she said. And so did
Mithu, the green beauty with her yellow tail. As did Corma the black
bird with his spotted wings.
But Akhand was elated. He was the best. Yes, he was. No one could
compare with him. He was the smartest and now the most handsome.
He strutted to the lake showing off his colors to all the birds. And
reaching the edge of the lake, he looked down into it. The still water
reflected his handsome wings. How handsome he looked.
But then he started. The lake was stealing his colors by reflecting it.
The lake was looking beautiful by stealing his colors. They were his
colors, his beauty. And the lake had no right to them.
"You thief", he shouted, pointing to the lake. "You are stealing my
colors. You cannot just take my colors. You have to pay me."
Everyone seemed stunned by such absurd reasoning. No one had heard such
a thing before. How could the lake pay Akhand anything?
"The colors are mine", Akhand shouted. "I invented them. You cannot take
them from me without paying me."
"But its only your reflection, my friend", the lake said gently, not
knowing how else to reply.
"Exactly", yelled Akhand. "You are stealing my reflection to decorate
yourself", the brown bird screeched.
The other birds tried to reason with Akhand.
"We all live together", Hansa said. "How can one bird pay another for
all it gets from the others?"
"Yes", said Mithu quietly. "How can you pay for friendship and affection
and love and care?"
"How can you pay for being taught to fish and to suck nectar? How can
you pay for everything you learn as you grow with your friends?", Corma
added.
Akhand was getting angrier. These petty, dumb birds did not understand a
thing. He was the smartest - what could they teach him. Had he not flown
three days and come to this new land and learnt everything they knew in
a few days? He would have just as easily learnt by himself. And now that
he looked majestic, he could pay whatever they wanted. These were his
colors and no one would have it without paying for them.
"This is absurd", the Lake said. "How can you own a color? It is a part
of nature, a part of all of us? How can you own such a thing?"
"How can you claim you own an event?", Air tried to reason with the
brownbird. "How can you think you own an idea? These things happen only
as you interact with all of us. Never do they come out of nothing!"
"Yes", said the Sky. "Such payments will break down a circle of friends.
It will only make them do things for money."
"Akhand is right", said the Sun, to every one else's surprise. "The Lake
will owe the brownbird for taking his reflection. And the Lake should
pay him every time he takes the brownbird's reflection. But every time
the bownbird flies over the Lake, he must pay the Lake what it desires.
And every time the brownbird dives into the Lake for fish, it must pay
the Lake. And every time it drinks water, it must pay the Lake"
"And he must pay me every time he flies through me", said Air.
"And he must pay me for every drop of rain he drinks", said the Sky
"And he must pay me for every drop of nectar he sucks and every flower
he sees", said the fields.
"And he must pay me for sitting on my branches", said every tree.
"And he must pay me for my love and friendship", said Hansa.
"Oh!, I will", said Akhand arrogantly. And having said that he rose up
in flight.
"There you fly", said Air. "You owe me now."
"And you cannot sit on me without paying me", said the tree.
And suddenly Akhand did not know what to do.
Sky was angry at such behavior and it turned dark. Clouds gathered and
it began to rain. And as it rained, the drops fell on Akhand as well. As
it slurped a drop that rolled down its beak, Sky thundered, "you need to
pay me for drinking my rain".
And as the drops began to fall, they washed away the red from the wings
of the brownbird. The streaks of red disappeared. And Akhand was a plain
old brownbird once more. All his arrogance was washed away by the
falling rain. But now he had no friends, no one to take care of him, no
one to love him. Hansa turned her back to him. Mithu turned his back to
him, as did Corma.
With nothing else to do, and no one else to turn to, Akhand decided to
fly back home. And he flew towards the setting sun. Feeling sorry for
this bird, the sun showed him the way. Akhand flew and flew. He was
sorry and he was embarrassed. He had turned away from the love of his
tribe and now he had lost the love of his friends. We will never know
what he thought in his little head. But he thought long and hard as he
flew for two days and one night. And when he arrived in the valley of
the brownbirds by the gurgling stream beyond the mountains, he was a
wise brownbird.
He lived with the other brownbirds, moving to the forest during the
monsoons and taking care of the young when spring came. But he taught
them to chatter less and think more. He had learnt to own things more
valuable than what can be bought or sold. He had learnt to love and to
care. And there he lives now.
No one knows how old he is. But he looks respectfully at the Sun, and
nods his head to the Sky and waves his wings in the Air. He speaks
occasionally with other birds passing by and murmurs softly to the wind
and trees. And when I feel the need for some wisdom, especially when I
think I am being arrogant, I go looking for that wise old brownbird.
Food for thought
1. Was Parasnath really smarter than the other brownbirds? If he was,
then in what way? If not, why not? Was he truly different from them?
2. Why did Parasnath want to leave the other Brownbirds? Why did the
other brownbirds discourage Parasnath from leaving? Were they
justified?
3. Have you felt the urge to explore? What might be 3 explorations you
might want to set out on?
4. Why was Parasnath impressed by the birds in the new land?
5. Have you ever wanted to be like someone else?
6. Was Parasnath succesful in learning the skills of the others by
watching them? Do you succesfully learn by watching others? How could
you learn better from watching others?
7. How did Parasnath learn new skills in the new land?
8. Who has helped you learn new skills? Who have you helped?
9. Why did Parasnath feel inferior? What advice would you have given Parasnath?
10. Why was Parasnath excited in this new land? How did it change his attitude?
11. Who owned Parasnath's colors? Was the lake stealing it?
12. What can humans own? What can humans not own?
13. What was the result of Parasnath claiming ownership to his colors?
How did it affect his interactions with the others?
14. Was Parasnath fair? Were the others fair?
Write to the author
The author will review feedback and answers received for any of the questions
above. Selected answers may be published on this web site as "model" answers
for the benefit of other readers. Please use the form below to make your
submission.
