Skip to main content

'MACAW'CRY(DAY 4, POST 2)

 


Juna darted her eyes around, following the strokes and the flow of the pencil across the  book. 

She was blue-gold macaw who flew about the house freely, though at night, she was safely put back in her cage which hung in the living room.

Juna loved her snug spot with some sunflower seeds and a bowl of fresh water every day. She had picked up the language of her household, the Greenwoods. Her favourite phrase was, “ Good Morning, how may I help you?” after listening in on phone conversations.

Much to everyone’s vexation, Juna started imitating dialogues from the movies and television and there wasn't a moment’s respite with her constant chattering. 

At the moment, she was perched, claws digging softly into Peggy's shoulder. Looking over her homework, Juna started mimicking Mrs. Greenwood's nagging tone asking her to speed up and to come down to dinner.

Frustrated with a complex math problem and with Juna’s non stop monologue, Peggy blurted out, “If you don't get out right now, I will lock you in the basement forever”. Juna only blinked her eyes as if memorizing each modulation and tone. Peggy regretted instantly but the damage was done.

Juna flew around the room commanding to no one in particular, “Get out…right now!” in a tone so fierce that left Peggy stunned.

****

A few days into the incident, Peggy had study holidays before a major exam and was quite engrossed in her studies, with her parents at work and the house help out on running errands. A few minutes passed and everything was deathly quiet. Juna was snoozing in her cage on the humid afternoon.

Peggy heaved a sigh of relief for the rare moment of peace and quiet. Suddenly, her ears perked up at an unusual sound. She could hear low whispers from outside the first floor window. When she parted the curtains slightly, she panicked on seeing two shady looking men with tools trying to break open the back door.

A chill running down her spine, Peggy raced down as noiselessly as she could to dash out of the front door, but she was too late. One of the men was already in the kitchen with a large rucksack.

Cold sweat ran down Peggy’s face as she quickly slipped into a dark corner under the stairs. She was trapped. They would find her soon and then…

And then, a fierce female voice rang out in an annoyed tone, “How can I help you? If you don't get out right now, I'll lock you in the basement for the rest of your life….Out! Out!” Juna had imitated Mrs. Greenwood and the click of a gun barrel.

The thieves upon realizing that their game was up, scurried out and ran for their lives. Juna, the mimic artist had saved the house from getting robbed and also Peggy from coming to any harm.

(478 words)

©️ Sangeetha Kamath 

Pic Courtesy:Image by Brigitte Werner from Pixabay

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

CHẠ̀WKHRĀW (Chxw̒kh rxw̒)

  As usual, at the dot of 8 pm, the Guzheng plays its stirring chords, the haunting notes beginning a slow sweep, rising to a powerful crescendo and alternating with a tranquil ebbing of melody surfing me along the waves of soul-stirring, yet a serene stretch of an hour every day.  I make it a point to sit right beside my dining room window to bask in this lulling sound therapy as my neighbor downstairs diligently plays on this zither, oblivious to my admiration. What a luxury it is to have a live orchestra while I savour the last meal of the day. It's a welcome distraction to the otherwise jarring squabbling of the playful neighbourhood children.  The Chạ̀wkhrāw of this– that the musical household might move one day is a foreboding thought. Foreshadowing this, deeply ingrained in me is the shattering news I had received upon returning to Singapore after an 8 month absence here.  The Ramadan festive season was fast approaching at the end of March but the apar...

HIRAETH

Most rainy afternoons make me jog down memory lane, to the rhythm of the downpours that cascades down in sheets. And I slacken to the percussion of the raindrops tapping against my window pane. Flashes of memories of the halcyon days of the mid 1970’s come back to find me, to haunt me like mists hanging heavy and still. My only solace at this juncture are my vintage albums. The windows to the past and my very own time machine.  Mulling over the pictures, I pen her a tribute: Once upon a time, there was a time when photos were Black & White, Monochrome, Sepia But the trees in your backyard were a much Idyllic Green--Verdant, Jade, and Lime. The fire in your hearth, a sunset Orange--red-hot, Amber and glimmering as you stoked it. The skies, immensely boundless, a much Pristine Blue--Cornflower, Sapphire and Azure, As you pointed out to me the floating frothy clouds, the eagles gliding with their fanned out wings; Or the occasional lone airplane soaring dominantly, a tiny speck hi...

ANAM CARA

The waves are soft and frothy. Laced with gossamer frills tenderly kissing the tips of my toes covered with the grainy sand of the rugged seashore where I'm sitting, wistful. A gust of briny breeze tousles my hair as I gaze as far as my eyes can see.  A flock of terns wheel overhead, their sharp, shrill cries punctuating the air as they dive and swoop over the surfs. A lone frigate bird , its crimson belly dazzling like a jewel skims majestically above, its long, slender wings outstretched as it rides the thermals high above the ocean. I absorb the sights and sounds of the late afternoon while absentmindedly scooping seashells beside me. As the afternoon phases, the furthest rim of the ocean is fringed in a gilded hem and the sleepy sun yawns, its dipping glow streaking the sky in a mellow tangerine and warm cherry. As I continue sitting there, the ships and yachts appear --specks of light from the portholes glimmering in the distance, reminding me of the phrase “That ship has sai...

INSIDIOUS

  The car juddered to a halt and refused to budge an inch forward. "Luke, I thought we had a full gas tank and the car was serviced just this weekend…what's wrong?" "I have no idea, Stella…We're in the middle of nowhere and my phone has no signal! But look there. It says 'Baby Museum' on the signpost. Shall we go in and see if they have a landline to get us out of this mess?" "Guess we have no choice. But I'm very uneasy, Luke. I just want to go home and rest. Our baby's due in a couple of weeks." "I'm so sorry, honey. But look at the brighter side. We can check out this place in advance." At the entrance were standees of Tinkerbell and Peter Pan. The lobby glowed with pastel pink shimmering lights. Mannequins of fairies lined the walls. Luke approached the front desk.  "Yes sir, we will have it arranged. Meanwhile, why don't the both of you take a tour of our museum?" Stella took Luke's arm and hobbl...

EILÍFUR GJÖF (ETERNAL GIFT)

  It was pre-dawn and still dark. The shrill alarm jolted me from the depths of a death-like sleep even as I tried to cling on to the fading vestiges of a sweet dream. I was just within reach of seeing its mysterious ending but it was gone. Like a wisp of smoke! I tried to slowly blink away the remnants of sleep from my eyes---heavily lidded and which just refused to open even a crack at a grim time like this. The alarm was ringing incessantly. Could it be a mistake that I set it to go off so early? At this bleak hour?!  Uh! Hold on, it wasn’t the alarm but a phone call for crying out loud!” At this unearthly time, when most of this side of the world was asleep, I dearly hoped that it would be from one of the two sources--Either from ** Piny Woods Primary School or ** Woody Pines Primary School . Yes, Thank God! I was right! I recognised ** Carrie’s number of **Piny Woods Primary School. Phone calls during pitch-black hours did tend to give me the chills, driving me to think ...