Chutki often used to spend time scavenging for food in the trash, when not being made to sweep the grounds. She did not enjoy working for the master at all. She hated to walk on the hot road to carry goods back to the master’s manor. But she could never protest. She had no one to protect her. No one as fathers and mothers. She used to go to school. A small room with many children. No one knew her and she didn’t bother them either. One afternoon, she came back with a piece of note clutched in her hands. Master was annoyed because he never bothered her. He, rather roughly, asked for an explanation. “I couldn’t complete the homework. F-fifth time this m-month. It was a-an essay on my-mother.” She stuttered. She did not know why she never returned to school after that. She sat in her room, staring at the wall, her small bed and a broken cupboard.
This morning, as she was looking at the wall, trying to make out a picture joining the blisters, a small bird settled itself on her window seal. It joyfully chirped and danced around. It was happy, and it made Chutki happy. It glanced at her and flew away quite suddenly. Somebody knocked on her door. It was Mistress. “Chutki! Where’s tea?” she asked sternly. Her glossy slippers patterned on the wooden floor.
Chutki couldn’t get the little bird out of her mind. It made her earn a loud scolding and a cock bit her hand. That evening, when she was tired after trimming the lawn, she saw the bird once again. But this time, it was in a cage. It was crying sadly, not at all that cheerful. It was hitting itself against the bars and made desperate attempts to come out. It only believed it could, it did not know that its delicate body had no effect against the strong bars. “It’s a European Bee-Eater.” Commented master. Chutki was very sad. She did not know what to do. After dinner when she was washing the dishes, Chutki thought of freeing the bird at night.
At night, when everyone was asleep, she came to the hall and found the keys lying on the same table. She wanted to open the cage, but was too scared. She knew it very well, that if she let the bird go, she would be abandoned. She felt pain and looked at the bird. It was sitting on one end and covered its head with its wing. The moonlight, which shone between the bars of the gate illuminated her feathers. They were really beautiful, but sad. Every morning, Chutki saw it cry and refuse food. It never sang or chirped joyfully. Only its eyes looked towards Chutki as if asking for help. The master and the mistress had no sympathy for it, except looking at it and saying once a day, ‘this bird is beautiful.’
Every day at 9:30 am, Master left with his briefcase to a mysterious place, Chutki knew as the office. By 10 am, Mistress’s friends arrived. You could hear them from a block away, for no other lady had such a high-pitched crackled laugh like them. By 10:20, Mistress grabbed her clutch, and with a formal tone said, “Nothing funny when I am in office!” And she would shut the door rudely. Chutki only needed to hear the clatter of her heels before she knew everything was hers, until 4 pm, of course.
When Chutki had finished cleaning the bathroom, she sat staring at the cage. The bird peered through the bars and whined. “I am really scared. I-I don’t think, I can muster up enough guts to free you. Master would abandon me if I did so.” She said to the bird. The bird continued to whine. “I-I am sorry. I am in a cage too. I don’t have a freewill either.” She left.
It felt as if some stranger was sitting on the couch, looking hopefully towards her eyes, but she was helpless. She tried to distract herself, by running towards the kitchen, as if checking the food. Sometimes, she clattered the spoons to make it appear that she worked. She could feel the bird peer, trying to get a sight of her. To the bird, every sound of metal were keys, which would open the cage. Chutki used to get a sight of the bird often, trying to know when it would go to sleep, so that she could open her mind to fill. Finally, it had fallen asleep, that noon, just after it fed on some bees, (caught by Chutki, with great difficulty). She tried not to make sounds and quietly sat beside the bird. “You know, I remember my mama. Just some blips. She had black hair like mine. I remember they tickled my cheeks, whenever she bent down to pick me up. But I don’t remember my father. I also can’t remember how I landed here. How was your mama? Was she just like…you?”
Somebody knocked on the door. The bird woke up. “Chutki! Open up. Fast.” It was the Mistress. She entered and walked around, “How can I forget my earrings? Have you seen them?’ she asked Chutki. “Dunno. Perhaps in your dressing table.”
“Don’t pick up that tone now. Help me find it.” The bird looked around nervously. “Have you fed the bird?”
– “He was sleeping.”
– “Is he fed?”
– “Yes miss.”
– Hmm.
The door shut again. “Never mind her. She is cruel enough to be called a witch.” In the noon, she saw a suspicious lady drive her car away from the gates, a dog chasing an iguana and some young men admiring a man with a gun. He was shooting guavas and the men were cheering along.
That evening, when Master arrived at home, he was in a sour mood. He complained of everything he saw. Some of them were, “When I left the house, the newspaper was on the table, Chutki.” “You should know that I always prefer coffee over tea.” “You! Why are the spoons and forks mis-matched?”. But worse than that was- “Awful cleaning! Do you just idle away your day or do a stroke of work! I’ve never seen another clumsy careless girl like you! “
“Should have thought while cleaning.” The Mistress followed him upstairs. “No dinner for you. Go to your room.” She said and slammed the door. The European Bee-eater was shocked as it ruffled its feathers trying to look bigger.
A hungry girl, alone and sleepless. There were only the distant scowls of cats, and rats to accompany her. Chutki was scared. She had a suspicion that the Master was getting fed up with her. What if she was abandoned? Where would she go? She heard the whining bird again. “Okay! The window is open. I will free that bird and run away. I can’t see it whining like that anymore. Makes me remember my good times and realise how badly I am treated here.” She thought. Chutki opened the door and peeped. The light of the Master’s room was still on. She searched for the key around. It was there, inside Mistress’s clutch. She opened it, but it snapped shut. The next moment there was the sound of thumping footsteps, and light entered the hall, as the furious lady stood there. “What are you doing there? I know mighty well what that sound meant. Go to sleep at this moment! Now!” Chutki lowered her head and silently went to sleep. Trying to sleep. “Oh! What a fool I had been.”
Before she knew it, there was a rude rap on her door. “Wake up, lazy girl!” Soon after, the Master called her in a serious tone. “Yesterday, you had crossed your limits, Chutki. You carelessly did your chores and tried to steal money. Thinking of a life outside here? Very well! By 2:00 pm this noon, I will get you out of this city, by car. Then I believe, you can live up to your fullest. Enjoy a new flavour girl, it’s poverty!” “Pack up and prepare some tea for me.” There was malice in Mistress’s smile.
There were no tears rolling down her cheeks, for she knew she wouldn’t be able to survive anywhere. She was small and weak. She couldn’t find food. Would scavenging be her way out?
That noon, when she was ready, and Master was no near changing his decision, Chutki saw the sad bird. It felt and understood that she was leaving. Chutki looked at its eyes. “You… you always replied to my stories. You don’t deserve this. We both were in cages. I am being hoisted to death’s claws. Well, I might not get a happy-ending, but you will, my dear.” There was no one in the hall. The clutch was shut. Chutki opened it, put her finger between and pulled the key out. She balanced a mint packet in between and struggled to open the lock for she never opened any. After a bit, it opened and the bird looked with awe. She carefully carried it and freed it outside.
Chutki threw the cage out and rushed to the basin. She wet her eyes, as if crying and locked her room. There was only a small bundle of clothes, poorly cut and dirty. The car came soon and it took her out of the residence. She tried to look for the bird and it was there. Few boys were admiring it as the man with the gun boasted how he shot such a rare bird.
Did the bird really die? Was it just a matter of life and death? It lived a beautiful life, where it merged with freedom in its last moments…
By: Nehan Pervin Mondal
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