A Pair of Mynah Birds

Summer had succumbed to the charm of monsoon. The sky was a forlorn grey, appearing almost ready to precipitate. Heavy clouds moved ever so slowly, making faces at the tiny beings below. There was no wind; however, the air carried with it a layer of moisture that was almost palpable.

He brushed the sweat off his forehead as he walked his daughter to school that morning. He walked; she jumped and glided and skipped and floated; all this while she held on to his hand. A squirrel scurried across their path. She froze and made him stop as well. Her eyes followed the squirrel as it made its way above the trunk of a tree effortlessly. They stood there staring at the squirrel until it was no longer in sight. Then she tugged him forward, and onward they marched.

“What's for lunch today?” she asked.
“Guess.”
“Bread!”
“What are you? A duck?”
She giggled.

“Then what?” she asked.
“Guess.”
“Nuts!”
“You're nuts!”
She laughed.

“I'm going to hit my friend today,” she said.
“Why?”
“He hit me yesterday.”
“Oh. Right. Where will you hit him?”
“On the ground.”
He laughed.

Her hopping came to an abrupt halt. Her eyes squinted in search of something.
“What are we looking for? Another squirrel?” he asked.
“Look!” She pointed at the mynah bird.
“Are you afraid of a bird?”
“No! It's only one.”
“Are you afraid of a gang of birds?”
“No, silly! We must find its pair. Or else, it'll be bad luck.”

“That can't be right.”

She ignored him and followed the mynah bird as best as she could, until the puzzled bird decided to fly away. She chased after it and finally yielded due to a lack of wings. She returned with a frown. 

“Bad luck for today,” she declared.
“That's okay. Come on, we're late for school.”
“See! It's started already.”


She grabbed hold of his hand; her eyes still looking for the other half of the pair. She looked at the trees, the shrubs, the grass, the sky; but no one came to her rescue. Her inquisitive eyes began to lose hope. They reached the gate of the school. She let go of his hand, took hold of her school bag and walked in with her shoulders drooped.

“Hey mynah bird!” he said. “Keep your head up; you never know what you might miss.” He winked at her. She gave her the briefest and the faintest of her smiles. As he walked back, it started to
drizzle. Raindrops and sweat beads merged over his brow. He walked slowly as his eyes furtively searched for the elusive bird.

                                                                          *

It had rained. The capricious clouds were nowhere to be seen. Sun had come out and the air felt much lighter. He waited for her outside the school gate. She walked with one of her friends quietly; her hands holding on to the strap of her bag. Her eyes found his and she ran towards him. He took off her bag and held her hand. She had a sheet of folded paper in her other hand.

“What are we so happy about?” he asked her.

“I found the other bird.” She handed him the sheet of paper. It was a crude pencil-coloured sketch of two black birds with yellow beaks and brown plumage.

“You found it,” he said. “No bad luck then?”

“No,” she replied.

“And did you hit him?”
“Whom?”
“Your friend.”
“Yes.”

“Where?”
“On the ground.”

He smiled and walked. She skipped, and hopped, and glided; all that while she held on to his hand. They went on together, oblivious to the pair of mynah birds, perched on top of an obscure branch, looking down from above.