There was a tall, middle-aged man with burning black eyes standing at the gate of the narrator. The man was to sell his two parrots in a cage. The writer’s three years old son was highly fascinated by the very little parrots that were jumping and perching on a bar inside the cage. The man badly required money for ticket to go home and he requested the narrator to buy the birds and give him some money. The narrator found him to be a dweller of Kutch, not far from Hyderabad Sind. The son of the narrator took the cage and his heart was dancing with joy. He was feeding the parrots with a green chili and ripe guava. While feeding, the narrator’s hand was nipped by the birds. She was angry and expressed her anger for the imprisoned birds.
Her son could understand her words and he was pleading with his little gestures. The narrator would have opened the door of the cage unless she was not forbidden by her mother. There were cats in her room. She could find only a few trees in the Mosque. So she did not think to lose the birds there. There were a hundred pigeons and some peacocks living in those trees in the courtyard of the Mosque.
Then she thought of the orchard on the outskirts of the town with its many fruit trees and the whole orchard was being looked after by the gardener Ramai. He used to frighten away the marauding crows and kites. It took them a month to go to that orchard. By that time, she was pregnant and could not drive the carriage to the orchard. Din Mohammed who had been with the writer did not agree to take the risk. He on the other hand, requested the writer to release the birds there, but she did not agree.
Then, the writer went to the Mosque to meet the old man Maulana, who was seen grief-stricken and old-grey rimmed eyes expressed the tragedy of the cruel partition. Meanwhile the writer became thoughtful and looking out up to the lane where she found countless pigeons were pecking, swinging and strutting.
The writer expressed her thought...
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