Tweet

On Sunday, I heard the "tweet" of a bird. If it had come from the direction of either of our balconies, I would not have been surprised. But this "tweet" piqued my interest because it was coming from the direction of our front door. Beyond the front door and the gate, all we had was a corridor that led to the three other apartments in our floor, the lift and the stairway. How could there be a bird out there?

The first time I heard the "tweet",  I was having lunch. I told my husband it was odd to hear a bird call from that direction. Later, as I went about my day, I thought about the "tweet" again and wondered if one of our neighbours had brought home a pet bird. A few hours later--when I heard the "tweet" yet again--my mind wandered back to my childhood, to the time I had my first bird pet...

Mittoo was a mynah - her feathers a mix of grey and brown, her beak and feet yellow. She had been a helpless baby bird when I first found her staring at me through the grass as I was in my neighbour's garden, playing. I was only about 7 years old, so I was frightened by her big beady eyes. I immediately ran home and told my mother that there was something scary out there. She came back with me to see what I was talking about. When I pointed to the bird, my mother just casually put out her hand, lifted her up from the grass, and proceeded to tell me that she was just a baby bird. She had probably fallen down from the tree and was hiding there because she was hurt. She also told me that if we were to leave her out there, a crow or some other bird of prey would likely find and kill her. So we decided to take her home.

We didn't have a bird cage, so my mother emptied her garlic basket and made it a temporary shelter for the bird we had brought home. We named her Mittoo, because I had read about a parrot with the same name in one of my Tinkle comic books. On that day, none of us at home had imagined how attached we'd grow to this little lost bird!

Although we did manage to change her cage from the makeshift one to something more suitable for a bird her size (with a tiny swing in it), we hardly ever caged her. She would spend all day walking freely around our small home, going to her "room" (the cage) only to eat and sleep. Her favourite person was my mother - she thought that she was her mother, too - and followed her everywhere!

I don't remember how long Mittoo spent with us, but I do know that she lived a happy life with us until a sickness came her way. She had stopped eating or drinking anything, even though my mother tried to feed her like she had when she was a baby. Eventually, she grew weak and died. I cried a lot that day, for the bird that had once scared me, only to become my friend and sibling of sorts. Days later, my grandfather brought home a parrot to help me fill the void left by Mittoo. But I'll tell you about Kuttoo (I considered the new parrot as Mittoo's sister) another day!

Fast-forward to where we started this story - the day I heard the mysterious "tweet" sounds that got me thinking about Mittoo. The same evening, I was relaxing after my evening chai when I heard the "tweet" again. This time, curiosity got the better of me, so I decided to open the front door and take a look. To my absolute delight and surprise, there was a baby bird - a mynah or some similar species - sitting on our gate! She was so close to me, yet so calm. I didn't know what to do in excitement, so I ran to tell my husband about it. He came, looked and went back to his (very important) Zoom call!

So I called my family this time. Over a video call, I showed them my tiny visitor. We were concerned about leaving her out there, because a cat often roamed the building's corridors at night. My sister coaxed me to bring her in and I sought my husband's help to do it. To be honest, I realised that I still felt a little fear when a bird, however small, who was still a stranger stared right at me as if looking into my soul! Our little visitor, little as she was, looked me directly in the eye - and that made me nervous!

Once Tweet was home (thanks to my husband), I used an old, netted laundry bag to make a temporary shelter for her, covering the top with some pieces of thermocol. Over the next hour or so, my sister and I spoke over the phone about what to feed her, when to feed her, when to let her go, etc, with my mother chiming in with words of wisdom every now and then. But our little Tweet, she had other plans!

We soon found out that she was a determined little thing, because she didn't want to stay inside the space I had arranged for her. She managed to create and come out through a gap between the cloth edge of the (netted) laundry bag and the lightweight thermocol placed above it. The minute I tried to put her back in for the night, she surprised me by flying up to the room's curtain, and then again when I tried to catch her from there! That's when I knew that she was no Mittoo... she was not a hurt, broken-winged bird seeking shelter with some kind humans; she was a feisty little bird ready to fly and determined to make it on her own! We decided that we would keep her in for the night, feed her some food in the morning and then let her decide if she wanted to stay or leave by letting her free in the balcony.

We had made the decision, but I was having a difficult night. I kept peeping into the room where she was kept, making sure she was sleeping, checking for ants and so on. I remember, just before we went to bed, my husband and I looked like parents who had somehow managed to put their restless child to sleep. We tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind us and saying, "Shhh, the baby is sleeping."

My sister had told me that I was to wake up early the next day and feed the bird. So I set up a customised alarm (with my own voice recording) to remind me of my "motherly" responsibility. Very unlike my usual self, I woke up as soon as the alarm rang the next morning - not even snoozing it a single time! By 6:30 am, I was wide-eyed, armed ready with a bowl of water and a tiny bit of fruit. I held the still-sleepy bird in my hand, stroked her head gently and told her that I wasn't going to harm her... but she immediately sprang up, flew out of my grip and sat on the zero-watt bulb we had hung close to the ceiling. I tried to climb on a chair and coax her down, but she wouldn't have any of it; she stayed put! I was defeated.

I didn't know what else to do so I called my mother and explained the problem to her. She suggested that I leave the balcony door open so that Tweet could leave if that's what she wanted. I did as I was told and waited to see what she would do. I didn't know that I was about to watch a fascinating scene unfold in front of me!

A couple of minutes passed after I had opened the balcony door. The gentle breeze that wafted in brought with it the sound of birds waking up and going in search of breakfast. She took a minute more to plan her next move, apprehensive of me as I was still in the room. Sensing her worry, I moved away from the door and she flew out immediately. But she didn't go too far; she perched on the grill that fenced our balcony and began letting out her little "tweet" calls again. She was hesitating to fly away. I suppose she was calling out to her mother, but it was other birds - black and red birds with little "caps" on their heads, a couple of sparrow-sized birds, even a full black bird with a long tail (sorry, I don't know what any of them are called) - that came to meet her.

I've seen some of these birds frequenting our balcony before, but never have they all come together and never have they come when I stood watching from the next room. Usually, they only came when the room was empty, and the slightest sound from me would cause them to fly away. But not today! They all came to look at Tweet; they knew she was a baby, perhaps they even knew her mother! The birds kept coming in, perching beside her for a few seconds, and then flying away only to return again. Were they going in search of her mother and coming back to make sure Tweet was fine? Were they demonstrating to her how she should fly? I didn't know, but I watched in awe.

Soon, the visiting birds gave her enough courage and she decided to take the leap of faith - she spread out her wings and flew down to the compound wall beside the flower bushes where a few birds always congregated. As I had been watching all this from a distance (so as to not threaten the birds), I now ran out into the balcony to look at where she must have gone, but I could see her no more. I can only assume that she made some birdie friends and that they led her to her mother.

That's it, happy ending - right?

Then why is it that I kept going back to the balcony, looking for Tweet? I stood there, trying to listen for her single-syllable call, amidst the sound of other birds. I forced myself to go back to bed as I had more than an hour before I had to wake up for my work-from-home Monday, but I couldn't lie down for more than a few minutes. "I hope I did the right thing", I whispered to myself. "Please let her be safe", I prayed.

Later, when I spoke to my mother again, I told her that I was afraid for Tweet's safety. To my surprise, she told me that parents go through the same kind of worry when it comes to their children. She said that she even feels that way about me being away from her after I got married! She also added that the only way she finds peace is by praying to God and trusting in Him to take care of me. And she told me to do the same for Tweet.

My mother's response that day taught me two things. One, that a mother always thinks, worries and prays for her child, no matter how old he/she is. Two, I cared for Tweet like I was her mother even though she was here only for one night! Does this mean I'm ready to take on motherhood? Or that I would make a really paranoid mother, considering how I've cried five times, peeped through the balcony fifty times and even gone searching (downstairs and on the terrace) since Tweet took off on Monday morning?

What do you think?