The Bird – The Rotting Nest

A series of stories of a bird who leaves his parents’ nest and moves on to live his life in his own way.

After three years of staying away from his family, in a perfect new nest, with enough space and necessities nearby, he still felt caged. He could not love his life and was in a constant fight with his mind over leaving the Rotting nest.

… …

Previous posts under this series:

The Bird – Finding a Nest
https://justhokumhere.wordpress.com/2017/07/21/the-bird-finding-a-nest/

The Bird – Missing Someone
https://justhokumhere.wordpress.com/2017/09/10/the-bird-missing-someone/

“Flap them harder! HARDER! Make a rhythm with both the wings, make it… No! What ARE you doing!? Oh just flap them together, NOT ONE AFTER OTHER!!” father flapped his wings in choler.

Father was having a hard time teaching him how to fly. Earlier they just used to jump off the roof when they finally came off age, but now, there were new rules for baby birds’ rights or some rubbish, which required them to first practice flapping of wings on the ground before taking The big jump.

He was just not able to sync the flapping of wings, if one was proper, he would forget to move the other. If both worked together, there would not be enough thrust to lift him up. While his dad just wanted to throw him off the roof. According to him, he would eventually learn to fly if he is thrown into a near-death experience.

Mother finally agreed to mend the rules, and they both pushed him towards the edge of the balcony. He was just a twig away from falling towards the ground, when he ran off their reach, postponing the big jump. He started acting his fear of failure. He had to. Or else, they would know that he had already learned flying by himself, practicing at nights. Mother finally gave in to his tantrums and postponed it for a few suns.

He didn’t want them to know that he could fly, as then that would be his time to leave the parent’s place and make his own life. But over time, they persuaded him to take the big jump. And that winter, he had to leave their home in search of his new home.

It has been six winters since. The bird had found a place of his own. He had set a daily routine for everyday. However, he missed someone in his life. But over time, his search for a companion had taken a backseat, as some other matter concerned him more.

His routine had become like a saddle of his life. He had accepted it to be a part of his being. And he could not think of a proper life without it. Just like he didn’t want to leave his comfortable space at his parent’s place, he had fallen hooked to his current routine.

The nest that he had so warmly adorned had started to smell foul day after day. His mornings were dull and he hated going to sleep at night. He wished that if he didn’t sleep, he wouldn’t have to wake up to another desolate day. Poor thing loved to live in his dreams, but was afraid to wake up, for he knew his life was nothing like his dreams. And that gave him many sleepless nights these days.

Every night he would sit in his rotting nest, juggling the pathos for his situation. He wanted to go in search of a new life. He thought that finding a new nest would give him happiness, however, he was hard to please, and was harder to make happy.

He had lived a life of pretence for a spread-eagled time. Rather, acting his delusory self in front of others for so long had started to make him believe in his own phony. Being a lost and bemused soul, he could hardly make his own choice now. It was always about what others wanted from him.

But at times, things turned out to be unconcerned for others, as it purely mattered his own self. And that was the time he would fly back to his rotting nest, hoping it to turn fresh all by itself, adjusting bits and pieces, all futile efforts.

At night, when the moon light would fall on his pulverizing nest, he would fly out of it and look around his area. He would remember the time when he used to sneak out of his parent’s nest to practice his flying. His time now is similar to that time.

He closed his eyes while sitting on the topmost branch of the tree opposite to his nest. His last view was his dying nest and he hoped to open his eyes to a new picture. A dream ran in his eyes, a dream to live… To live again.

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