Achyutananda Pati
Translated by Supriya Prasanta
That day, the owl fledgling opened his eyes for the first time. In the deep hollow of the tree trunk, when he opened his eyes for the first time, he saw thick darkness around him. His mother sat covering him with her wings. He dreamt of many things, his soft limbs lay on the pricking bed of twigs.
He could hear some noise from the top. The wings of his mother fluttered slightly. She puffed up her feathers for a while and then drew him close to her body. He felt cosy. He chirped merrily. His mother rubbed her beak on his tiny beak and whispered to be quiet and still. He did not understand why his mother said this. But he grew quiet. The creases of his skin slowly unfurled absorbing warmth from the soft feathers of his mother. He felt buoyant. He thought of standing up. He stretched his limbs in that bed of twigs. His mother too moved a little away from him. She pecked his tiny limbs and straightened them. The fledgling looked up. Darkness seemed less thick. He closed his eyes. Again, he looked at his mother and then looked up. Mother understood his mind. She placed her stub nose on his and said smilingly, “Darling! How soon have you become so sensible? All right, wait for some more time; let feathers grow fully on your wings. I’ll teach you how to fly. I’ll tell you how to flap your wings. You’ll travel across the sky and see new things for yourself. Here you lie in darkness, but when you go out, it will no more be dark out there. The sky will be filled with bright moonbeams. Little stars will fondly wink at you. I’ll introduce you to new things when I take you out on a round. Grow up soon. Let your limbs be a little strong.”
His mother shoved a bit of guava into his tiny beak, picking it out of the cavity. He swallowed it slowly. Ah, how sweet! He imagined seeing the world for himself. The world must be very sweet.
Some creatures ran under the tree making the familiar huke-ho noise. The fledgling felt drowsy lying under the warm feathers of his mother. He dreamt of many things. He dreamt of the world. All around, sweet guavas spread in pieces on the ground. The round moon was descending from the heaven. There was no trace of darkness. His beak opened with a smile. The noise from the ground woke him up. There was pitch darkness all around. The fledgling felt upset. He saw light in his dream just now. His mother ruffled her feathers sitting on the edge of the hollow. He cried out, ‘Ma, I’ll go to see the world today. I’ll go out to play with the moon.”
His mother came and drew him beneath her wings. He slipped out of his mother’s wings. He did not like darkness at all. His mother told him tenderly, “You’ve come to this world. Who would prevent you from going round it? You must go out into the world when you’re grown up and strong, else you would be cheated. Have a little patience. It’s just a matter of few more days. I’ll take you out myself. Sleep here for a while. You must be hungry. I’ll be back soon with new stuff for you. Don’t make any noise.”
His mother left him fondly pecking on his beak. The fledgling went into a reverie. With eyes closed, he dreamt of light spread everywhere. The world of light tempted him with a guava. His eyes were heavy with sleep. He found that his wings had now grown thicker than his mother. He was flying happily, his wings brushing the moon. His legs grew stronger than before. He was able to stand up. Feathers thickened on his wings. He was mad thinking of the world. In his imagination, the world got filled with moonlight and guavas. He grew restless. He pestered his mother. He was grown up now and he must go out to see the world.
That day, the mother-owl brought her son to the edge of the hollow for the first time. She pointed at the moon with her beak. His eyes dazzled. Ah, how lovely! He lay in such a dark hollow. The fledgling tried to fly accompanied by his mother. He hopped from one branch to the other. His wings grew tired. He flew to the topmost branch of the tree at once. He sat there, gazing at the moon. The pain in his wings gradually lessened. The moon sprinkled light. He felt like gulping down drops of moonlight. His mother arrived at that moment. She took him back into the hollow after much persuasion.
One day, the mother-owl had dozed off. The owl fledgling slowly ventured out of the hollow.
Oh, it’s so bright outside! The moon looked even bigger and shone brighter than the last time. He kept staring at it. His eyes started burning. My goodness, such blazing light!
Two myna fledglings were hoping on tree branches. They were singing with their mother. The owl fledgling felt sad—perhaps his mother was not as good. She never taught him to sing under such a big moon. He went near the myna fledglings, singing. They were frightened, and started yelling. Their mother came and pecked him hard. A cawing crow advanced towards him hearing his voice. The mother-owl was jolted out of her slumber. She came rushing and hurriedly took her child away into the hollow. The fledgling was very angry with his mother. She had spoilt everything. In a fit of anger, he bit his mother. He tried to go out once again. He screamed at his mother why she had not shown him the big moon earlier. While comforting him, his mother told him desolately, “Keep quiet, my son. That isn’t the moon, my love. It’s the sun. In our world, there’s no sun. We must live in dark. Otherwise, we’ll perish.”
The fledgling was annoyed at his mother’s words. Why wouldn’t he go to the world of the sun? Why would not he stroll in the kingdom of light? Who has made such laws to trouble them? He was marching forward angrily. His mother dragged him into her wings. He plucked out a few feathers from his mother’s abdomen in frustration. His mother simply cried. He came back. Outside, a gang of crows caw-cawed endlessly. His mother regretted that she had unnecessarily told her son about the sun.
“We live in the dark. We belong to the ominous species. We’re a curse on the world. If we seek light, we’ll die. In the realm of light, the children of light hang around to hunt us.” His mother broke down saying this.
“Have a little patience, ma.” He tried to comfort his mother, “Let me grow up. I’ll surely take you to the kingdom of light. I’ll destroy all our enemies.”
That day, both the owl-mother and her son perched on a mango branch. There was no moon in the sky. The owl fledgling felt bored. Suddenly, a flicker of light came through a chink of the house nearby. The owl fledgling was thrilled. He opened his beak and sang a song. Someone from the house shouted abusively, “Fly away, you wretch! I’ll parch your back with a hot frying stick, do you hear me? Get lost, may you succumb to diarrhoea!” The mother-owl kissed her son and asked him to keep quiet. The fledgling felt enraged. How unfair! They would use light as though it was their own property. We would be told off if we rejoiced upon seeing a glimmer of light! No, that is not done. He wanted to enter through the window and snatch the light away from them. His mother howled and brought him back home.
After sunset, the fledgling examined his wings carefully before setting out of his hollow. All the feathers had grown on his wings. He stretched his legs and strutted around twice. His limbs were strong. He struck his beak on the tree trunk. It was quite hard now. He flew away. In the dark of the night, he kept sitting in the hollow of a tree. He would not return home. He would roam freely in the kingdom of the sun. He would conquer light. He would
confront his enemies face-to-face.
The dawn broke. From below the horizon emerged a spring of red light. The owl-fledgling had never witnessed the entry of light in the kingdom of the sun. He saw this spectacle of light with his eyes wide open, oblivious of himself. Hundreds of birds flew away singing and flapping their wings to the beat. All these birds would roam around freely in light, savouring the taste of life, and he would rot in the dark and die? No. He felt determined. Slowly, the sun rose in the sky. The day light grew intense. In such a big and beautiful world of light, was there not a little space for him? No, he’ll make merry to his heart’s content today. He will let the world know that he is a son of light, too. He also has a claim on this kingdom.
The fledgling started moving around freely. He looked at everything carefully. Suddenly, he was attacked from the back. He turned around. His mother had marked them as enemy-birds that day. These have snatched the light from them. He also struck the crow with his beak. While defending itself, the crow cawed loudly for help. Flights of crows came rushing cawing aggressively. He could understand that he was too weak to defend himself against such a large army of foes. He flew swiftly towards the tall building in front flapping his wings. He slipped into the house through a small hole on the wall. Outside, crows continued to make noise. He sat quietly for some time. Let the chance come, let the enemies disperse, he knows how to take revenge. He will reclaim his due from the kingdom of light. He is not a curse of darkness. He is the child of light. Today, he will enjoy light to his heart’s content.
In that building, on a thick mattress of a bed lay the wealthy Dhirumalla. He was having fever and fits of delirium. He groaned in pain and shouted now and then agitatedly.
“Make sure that the mustard oil is eighty percent adulterated. Remember to file a suit against Madana Barik. That scoundrel’s sister, Chandrama shows off as a chaste woman. I fondly placed my hands over her, that bitch almost hit me! Can you hear me? Send around twenty goons and harvest the rice crop from Priya Mishra’s land. Money won’t be a problem. He doesn’t care to greet me just because he has studied a little! Come here and listen to me carefully—that Bengali from Calcutta has promised to provide me hundred bharis of smuggled opium. Keep an eye on him.”
These are the so called elite of the kingdom of light! It is for them that the sun offers light every day. The fledgling saw everything with his eyes wide open. All of a sudden, someone sitting near Dhirumal’s bed, a sincere and true servant of the kingdom of light, saw this owl-fledgling.
“Ominous! Inauspicious! Sign of death! An owl has entered the room. Master is ill.” The servant cried out impatiently. A long bamboo staff was brought; the fledgling was poked and driven away. Both his wings were injured. He managed to fly to the top of the building and sat there, writhing in pain. Some crows from the nearby tree rushed to attack him again. Annoyed with these noisy crows, a servant came to the terrace and struck a hard blow on the owl-fledgling, the cause of the trouble. The fledgling tumbled down. They burnt a bunch of straw on the terrace and snuffed out the flame with turmeric water. The evil omen would no longer have any effect.
The army of crows pounced on the injured fledging. Blood streamed down his wings in heavy spurts. He looked skyward. High up in the sky, the sun was still pouring down light. In great pain, he rose and turned homeward. He fell down at the bottom of the tree that was his home. His mother was waiting anxiously for her son. What could she do? How will her son take refuse in this broad daylight? The mother’s heart was oppressed by all sorts of anxieties. Hearing her son’s call, she rushed to the bottom of the tree. She was speechless at the sight of his blood-soaked body. The fledgling looked up for a moment. The mynas were singing boisterously in the branches.
The sun slid down sheets of light from the sky. The owl-fledgling said, his head resting on his mother’s lap, “Don’t weep, ma. Tell my siblings, if they’re born, that their elder brother became a martyr fighting valiantly to win the kingdom of light.”
The owl-fledgling closed his eyes forever. The sun still poured down light in abundance on the earth.
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