1
Prose
Wings of Farewell
Krishna Copywala
Wings of Farewell
In a small, bustling city, there lived a man named Anand. He was a solitary figure, often found wandering the busy streets, his gaze fixed on the horizon. Anand had a peculiar habit: every weekend, he would visit the local bird market, purchase a small, vibrant bird, and carry it home.
Once inside his modest apartment, Anand would carefully release the bird from its cage. As the creature spread its wings and took flight, a serene smile would spread across his face. He would watch as the bird explored its newfound freedom, its chirps filling the room with a sense of joy.
Years passed, and Anand's routine remained unchanged. He continued to buy and release birds, each one a tiny spark of life brought into his world. The neighbours, initially curious, eventually accepted his eccentricity, some even finding comfort in the gentle melody of birdsong that often drifted from his apartment.
As time wore on, Anand grew old. His once vibrant spirit began to fade, and his walks became less frequent. Yet, his love for birds never waned. Even when he was confined to his bed, he would listen intently to the birds that occasionally flew into his apartment, their cheerful songs a comforting balm to his weary soul.
One day, Anand passed away. The news of his death spread through the neighbourhood, and many mourned his loss. But what happened next was truly extraordinary.
On the day of Anand's antim sanskar (Hindu funeral rites), as his family and friends gathered for the cremation, a remarkable sight unfolded. From the nearby park, a vast flock of birds took flight. They soared through the air, their wings casting long shadows on the ground. As they approached the cremation ground, the birds began to circle overhead, their chirping a mournful symphony.
The mourners watched in awe as the birds descended, gently landing on the ground around Anand's body. Their tiny forms seemed to form a protective circle, their presence a testament to the love and care Anand had shown them.
As the priests chanted the final mantras and the flames of the pyre were lit, the birds remained, their wings fluttering softly in the air. It was as if they were bidding their beloved friend farewell, a gentle escort on his journey to the afterlife.
And so, Anand, the solitary man who had brought joy to countless birds, was laid to rest amidst a chorus of feathered mourners, a fitting tribute to a life well-lived.