He wanted to fly

He hopped down from his perch and pecked at the pomegranate seeds. The blood-red, ruby-like seeds had spilled out onto the floor of his cage. They lay glistening in the sun. As he pecked at the one nearest him, the juice splattered, staining the cold, strong metal lock that hung on the door of the cage.

His dark beady eyes followed a single drop of the red juice, as it slid down the lock. He turned his sooty black head away and continued pecking at the seeds.

The cage was a big, spacious one. Sunlight streamed in and his sleek, azure feathers shone. The cold, strong metal lock hung on the door of the cage throughout the day. The human with shoulder-length blonde hair and sparkly brown eyes would slide a plate of food and a bowl of water through a small opening, every morning. The human would then smile at him, a wide smile that almost reached her eyes… but didn’t quite make it. It wasn’t like the smile she gave her child. That reached her eyes and lit them up.

The sun was rising higher up in the sky. He saw a crow perched on the tree next to the balcony and called out to him. The crow cawed back and looked at him out of eyes filled with pity. He couldn’t pick out the lock. He couldn’t break it.

He stared at the crow. He knew he looked similar. For a moment, his heart fluttered. Was he related to the crow? Did he have a family? He would never know. The crow had flown away, spreading his wings, and taking flight. He would never know who his family was. For as long as he remembered, the cage had been his home and the humans his caretakers. But caretakers did not mean family, he thought, his eyes rising to the skies.

Before, he used to spread his wings, just like the crow, and dream of soaring into the skies. Now, he hadn’t the will to do it. Now, he derived no happiness from it. Now, he wanted freedom. Now, he wanted to zip through the clouds and feel the rush of the wind caress his feathers. Now, he wanted to fly.

It was only the previous day that the human child had looked up at him inquisitively, with wide, brown, innocent eyes, and asked him, “Mr. Azure jay, why won’t you spread your wings anymore? Mr. Azure jay, please do spread your wings. You look so beautiful when you do that…”

His mother had laughed and while patting his curly head, which reached no higher than the balcony railing, she had said,” Dear, his name isn’t ‘Mr. Azure jay’. That’s just the ‘type’ of bird he is. We call him Afonso.”

But later, when the boy child had turned away, she poked a few extra araucaria nuts into the cage with an anxious smile that was mingled with guilt.

Now, he wanted to fly. He couldn’t take it anymore. He wouldn’t take it anymore. He had been pecking the pomegranate seeds but now he abandoned them.

The human entered the room, humming a tune, and brought with her a jug of water. She stood on her toes and filled his bowl with water.

That was when he felt guilty. They take such good care of me. They give me everything I need. How can I be unhappy? How dare I be unhappy?! He felt guilty. He looked around his cage. It was big, it was spacious. The sunlight streamed in and a breeze blew, ruffling his azure blue feathers. There was food, there was water and a roof over his head. Everything was perfect. He should be happy.

But he was not.

He wanted to fly.

His guilt vanished as he looked up at the clear, blue skies. He wanted to fly. He hopped down from his perch and picked at the lock. It was cold, hard, and steely. It wouldn’t move. He pushed it with his beak, and it rattled against the cage.

The human looked up at him with wide anxious eyes. “What is it?”, she asked. He rattled the lock in response, hoping she would understand his heart’s desire. Her eyes widened even more and then she shook her head, slowly at first, and then fast, almost furiously… vehemently.

“No.”, she whispered, “No! You are safe here with us. It’s not safe for you out there. You are one of the last of your kind. And anyways, I’ll take good care of you. I do take good care of you, don’t I? Please don’t go…my little one likes you so much…please, it’d break my heart…”

But he continued nudging the lock. He meant to get out. The guilt had disappeared, and the vast open skies called out to him. He wanted to fly.

The human held the lock in place firmly and determinedly said, “No! You are not going anywhere.” She turned her flashing eyes towards the sky and with a last glance towards him, she turned on her heel and walked away with the jug of water.

Panic spread through his heart. Her last words rang through his mind again and again, louder, and clearer each time. His heart thumped furiously against his chest. Not get out? How could he stay here?! He couldn’t! He threw himself at the grills of the cage, beating his wings furiously on them. He wanted to fly!

He flapped his wings hard, crashing onto the unrelenting metal grills. The cage rocked back and forth, from where it hung on the ceiling. He fervently stabbed at the cold, steely lock with his beak. A silent tear, invisible to anyone, slid down from his beady eyes. His heart sobbed with fury and grief. He felt wasted. He slid down and lay motionless at the bottom of the cage.

He wanted to fly…

 The next day, sunlight streamed into his cage. He lay still and motionless. Then, suddenly, his cage swung dangerously. He looked down and saw the human child perched on a stool, standing on his tiptoes, making swipes at the cage with his chubby, little hand.

One of his fair curls dropped onto his forehead, in front of his eyes, but he made no attempt to brush it away. Instead, he looked furiously at the cage and then jumped down from the stool. He pushed it away and dragged a taller chair below the cage. He clambered onto it and then his eyes lit up with delight as he found he could reach the cage.

“Hi!”, he whispered, with big, excited eyes trained on the bird. “Momma said that you want to go out and play. That’s why you won’t spread your wings. I know how it feels when you want to go out and play but you are not allowed to… Momma won’t let me go out and play sometimes.”, he said, nodding his head vigorously.

“So, guess what? I found your key. Let’s go out and play!” Saying so, he thrust the key into the cold, steely lock, which had been lit up by a ray of sunshine, and then unlocked it. The lock fell to the floor with a thud and the human child turned big, scared eyes towards him. “Shhh...”, he cautioned, holding a chubby finger to his lips.

Afonso felt his heart lift and a song creep up his throat, but he swallowed it and hopped out of the cage. The world had suddenly opened up, the sunlight was no longer blaring and harsh, but bright and cheerful; the breeze was no longer chilling his bones, but rather was soft and caressing. He unfurled his wings and felt new life enter him.

He took flight and then landed on the balcony railing. Turning his sooty head back, he looked at the boy child who was standing with his small hands pressed to his mouth, his eyes wide with awe. Afonso flew down to where the boy stood and perching on his shoulder, he gently nibbled his ear. A giggle burst forth from the little human child and then he hurriedly pressed his hands back to his mouth, his eyes glistening with joy.

Then, Afonso spread his azure wings and tickling the boy’s cheek with them for the last time, he flew out into the skies.

The sun smiled down on him and the wind propelled him forward gently. He turned back and glanced at the little boy who stood clinging to the railing with one hand and waving another chubby hand furiously in his direction. His face bore a sunny smile.

Afonso felt his heart lift again and the song creep up. This time he didn’t hold it back, it burst forth and the boy child shrieked in delight upon hearing it.

Afonso flew.

Afonso? He was not Afonso!

He was an azure jay! And he was flying.