purulia, West Bengal
Bindi was becoming increasingly excited while talking to the bird. Her tender body was restless with affection. She couldn’t bear to be away from her dear friend for even a moment. Her mind was just unsettled. She was alert, waiting to hear her father’s footsteps. She wouldn’t feel at peace until she introduced her new friend to her father. While trying to give a red chili to the bird, she became distracted. She jumped with joy at the sound of the doorbell. The sound was familiar. Thinking her father had arrived, she quickly stood up.
Holding the cage in her hand, she walked to the front door, skipping, then stopped to the side. She set the cage on the ground, opened the latch, and pulled the door handle. Her eyes shone with affection. She saw her father standing in front of her with a smile. In a rush of excitement, she said, “Look what Mom brought! A parrot. My friend.” She picked up the cage from the ground and held her dear friend in front of her father’s face with a broad smile, saying, “Isn’t it sweet?”
Debabrata looked the bird up and down and, satisfied, said, “It’s not a parrot, it’s a myna.”
Bindi, shaking her braid, said, “Look how red its beak is. So beautiful!” She wanted to express her inner satisfaction by hugging her father.
Debabrata said, “My Bindi is beautiful too. How can her friend be more beautiful than her?”
Bindi, with bright eyes, said, “By studying.”
“Exactly. So now put the bird down and let’s get to studying. Evening is approaching. Did the school give you any homework?” Debabrata asked.
Bindi nodded and said, “They asked us to write a six-line paragraph about my parents. Did you buy an eraser?”
“I did.” Debabrata took an eraser out of his pocket and handed it to Bindi, then started walking. Bindi took a long leap, holding the cage.
Debabrata changed his clothes, washed his hands and face, and had a drink of water. Then he sat down with a cup of tea. Glancing through the newspaper, he called Bindi over. She had to write a paragraph titled “My Parents.” He sat her beside him and guided her with encouraging tones. He made her write ten sentences on a blank page, teaching her how to remember them. Putting his hand on her shoulder, he said, “The writing is about six and a half lines. Memorize it.”
Debabrata’s eyes were fixed on the newspaper. The festival of colors, Holi, was approaching. An article about colors was published. The author wrote line after line about how children’s bodies are affected by artificial colors. These colors directly attack the kidneys, skin, and various organs.
While turning the page of the newspaper, his gaze fell on Bindi’s notebook. The notebook was lying in a corner of the table, but Bindi was nowhere to be seen. Where did she go? He strained to hear and caught a faint voice. He saw Bindi sitting next to the bookshelf, staring intently at the birdcage and whispering. She was holding a segment of an orange in her hand, her eyes unblinking.
Debabrata scolded, “What are you doing over there?”
Bindi’s hands trembled at her father’s voice. In a broken tone, she said, “Look, it isn’t eating anything. Since noon, it hasn’t eaten a single thing.”
Debabrata got up from the sofa and went towards the cage. He saw that the myna wasn’t moving. Its eyes were still. He bent down, held the bird’s tail, and shook it once. The myna started to move. Debabrata said, “It won’t eat now. It’s the first day it’s come to our house. Tomorrow morning, you should put it outside. It will see the new sun. It will see the blue sky. Then it will eat. Now, finish your writing.”
Bindi remembered her grandfather. Sitting in the study, her grandfather was reading. He would know how to revive the bird. Thinking of this, she jumped up, leaving the cage behind. In a moment, she checked on her father. She couldn’t bear the thought that her affectionate friend Sona wouldn’t eat. With a pleading look, she said to her father, “You don’t know anything. Dada knows. I’m going to Dada.” Saying this, she disappeared in an instant.
Sitting in a chair, with a book in his mouth, Diprodeep was deeply engrossed. Seeing Bindi standing close to him, he looked up and said, “Do you want to say something?”
Bindi’s face and eyes were touched by the shame of failure. With a heavy voice, she said, “The bird isn’t eating anything, Dada! Its eyes have drooped. I’ve given it so many things to eat. It hasn’t eaten a single thing. What will happen, Dada? Will it gain strength if it doesn’t eat?”
Diprodeep turned the open book on the table and asked, “Did you give it water?”
Bindi, in an embarrassed tone, said, “I didn’t give it water, Dada.”
“It’s throat is dry. How will it eat solid food? Give it water. It will eat. Now go. I’m reading.” Diprodeep wanted to focus on himself.
A wave of happiness surged within Bindi. Dada was right. It needed water. She quickly left the room but stopped when she heard Dada call her. She asked, “Do you want to say something?”
Diprodeep eagerly said, “Won’t you give the bird a name? Give it a name.”
Bindi looked at him in surprise. Excitedly, she said, “I will. What should I call it, Dada?”
“Let me think for a bit. You think too.” Diprodeep got up from the chair. Both of them did not blink. They were deeply engrossed in thought. After a few moments, Diprodeep suggested a name. Bindi immediately rejected it. As a proposer, Bindi also suggested a name. “Ugh, that’s a bad name,” Diprodeep expressed his irritation. They proposed several names one after another. Each was immediately rejected as it did not please them. When both of their patience was nearly exhausted, Diprodeep suddenly excitedly said, “Eureka! I’ve got it!”
“Tell me, tell me,” Bindi eagerly asked.
“Titli. Call it Titli.”
“Dada, that’s Jhilikdi’s sister’s name. Suggest another name.”
They couldn’t find success in naming the bird. Even after five days, they couldn’t decide on a name they liked. Bindi lovingly placed her lips on the bird’s beak. She talked to it. She opened a book and read nursery rhymes to it. She bent the soft wires of the fragile cage and let the bird eat from her hand. The bird often perched on her hand. Bindi didn’t want to part with her friend. She cherished it more than her own life. It was her constant companion.
Today is the full moon. On this auspicious day, Bindi was born. The house was in a festive mood since morning. Debabrata was watching the news on TV. When Swagata came over and put her hand on his shoulder, he said, “What will we have for the meal today? I’ll go to the market soon. Let me know what I need to buy.”
Swagata handed him a cup of tea and said, “Get some goat meat. Buy paneer. Get some large rasgullas. Curd is auspicious for a good occasion. Make sure to buy them. Bindi’s ten to twelve friends are coming. Buy things accordingly. I’ll prepare a list.”
Debabrata muted the TV sound and said with a smile, “I’ll give Bindi a surprise today. I’ll buy a huge doll. Very big. Don’t tell her anything now.”
Swagata, sitting next to her husband, said, “Also, buy a big cage. The little cage is too small, and the bird’s tail is sticking out.”
Debabrata shakes his head, "I’m not bringing the cage, Swagata. I have thought of something else. I will clean the small room next to the toilet and keep the bird there. It will have a large space to move around. It can fly up to the perch. I will cover the window with a net. I can't stand the sound of 'cage.'"
Swagata looked at her husband with uneasy eyes. Debabrata had been vocal about the bird's freedom over the past few days. He wanted the tree bird to stay in the tree, fluttering in the wind. But Bindi’s deep love and affection had touched his own soul. Looking at her husband, she said, "Your idea is good. Where is Bindi? I don’t see her."
Debabrata had hung the cage on the grill of the open veranda outside in the early morning. Turning off the TV, he went outside and saw Bindi holding the cage to her chest with her left hand. Her right hand was inside the cage, pulling the bird’s wings repeatedly. The bird kept squawking in a discordant voice.
A short while ago, Debabrata had scolded Bindi to let go of the bird and start studying. Bindi's disregard was causing agitation in him. He did not like to see the book being put aside in carelessness. Seeing his daughter’s behavior, he said in agitation, "You’ve made a huge gap in the cage. The bird will escape."
Bindi's stubbornness had caused her to keep the bird in her hands for a short while. Her focus was on not letting the friend escape. The idea of the bird escaping broke her concentration. She was also a bit scared. Holding the cage to her chest with both hands, she said in a worried tone, "No, it won’t escape. It will stay with me."
Debabrata, now more agitated, said, "Yes, it will escape." Bindi’s aversion to studying was fueling his anger.
Tears rolled down Bindi’s cheeks. With her face pressed against the cage, she cried out in a tearful voice, "Let me stay with my friend, Daddy!"
Debabrata pulled Bindi’s arm and shook her once. He said with agitation, "It’s not the time to play with your friend. You have only two weeks left for your exam. If you waste time like this, your study standards will drop. You will be ashamed if the results are bad. Put the cage aside and come with me. I will teach you."
Bindi could not understand the reason for her father’s agitation. She had no lack of enthusiasm. She had the capability to score a hundred out of a hundred in math. So why was her father so worried? She could not even shower her friend with affection on her own birthday. She wanted to press her face against the cage, making a chirping sound to show her love. The myna also pressed its beak between Bindi’s lips, responding with a sweet voice. Bindi, glaring at her friend, said, "You won’t be naughty. I will feed you cake today. I’m leaving. You will be a lucky one."
At noon, during the tea break, when office colleagues went to the canteen for tea, Debabrata sat reading a book in his chair. Today, his mind was on home. He was thinking that on school holidays, Dipro and Maa would surely be busy decorating the drawing room. After leaving the office, he would go to the market and buy a large, wonderful doll for Bindi. He would buy ice cream. He would also get a book written by a children’s author and bring back some traditional sweets and mangoes.
Permission from higher authorities had already been obtained. At exactly four o'clock, he took out the scooter from the stand and glanced at the shopping list. Then, he left the factory’s main gate and came out onto the main road.
Even on Holi, work had been done at the factory. There was excitement to return home. When he was about to step into the house, everything seemed green. He imagined Bindi would come bouncing and open the door saying, "Did you bring ice cream, Daddy?"
As soon as he touched the doorbell, his pace changed. He waited a few moments. The sound of the latch opening made him tense.
Where is Bindi? Standing in front was Swagata, her eyes filled with pain. Debabrata smiled and asked, "Where is Bindi?"
"She is inside, come in. Give me the things." Swagata’s internal pain spread to the corners of her lips. Her lips trembled slightly.
"Is there any problem?" Debabrata placed his hand on Swagata’s shoulder.
"Come inside, I’m telling you."
"Tell me, what happened?"
How does Swagata reveal the truth to her husband? How does she describe the incident Bindi caused after returning from school? Looking at her husband, she says quietly, “The bird has flown out of the cage!”
Debabrata stares blankly for a moment, lost in thought. Before the numbness sets in, he collects himself and says, “I don’t want the joy of the birthday to be diminished.”
Swagata, feeling anxious, says, “Go and calm the girl down. Since she found out her friend is lost, she has been crying non-stop. Take care of her.”
Debabrata, lost in thought, enters the house and heads toward the basin. He washes his hands with soap. Then, shifting his mindset, he steps into their bedroom.
Bindi lies motionless on the bed. Her heart’s anguish is frozen in her eyes. The girl has turned to stone.
Debabrata, with affection, places his hand on his daughter’s head and gently combs her hair. In a soothing tone, he says, “Get up, dear, see what I have brought for you.”
Bindi stirs once, burying her face in the pillow, remaining inert. Debabrata continues, “I’ve brought a giant doll for you. Once you see it, you won’t be able to stay away from it. I’ve also brought a book. After reading it, you’ll get your friend back. It’s about birds. Get up and see.”
Bindi sobs once.
Debabrata says, “You are a wise girl, dear. Do you know your friend has gone to her mother’s place? In the row of Arjun trees by the Rajni Badh, there. By the pond. Will you go to her?”
Bindi now looks up. She gazes steadily at her father’s face.
Debabrata says, “I have seen the mothers of the birds flying around the Rajni Badh trees, making their nests. Your friend’s mother has also taken her to her own home. I promise I will show you your friend tomorrow morning. Tonight, the full moon will rise in the sky. The stars will twinkle around the moon. A mother will embrace her child with the light of the moon. Your friend is her moonlight.”
Bindi opens her eyes wide and looks at her father. She feels better hearing his words. She doesn’t know the meaning of moonlight. While fiddling with her father’s fingers, she says, “I have seen the moonlight’s mother, Daddy.”
Debabrata, astonished, says, “Really? Where did you see her?”
Bindi points to the wall outside the window and says, “She used to sit there every day. Every morning, she would whistle and call out.”
Debabrata strokes his daughter’s head. He does not want to remind her of the empty cage. He needs to soothe her inner pain. The birthday celebration needs to be memorable. Soon, her school friends will start arriving. He thinks that if the situation isn’t made easier, Bindi’s suffering won’t end, and says, “From now on, Chandni will stay with her mother all the time. You too are your mother’s Chandni. You are not allowed to go to your mother. You’ve been put in this small, dark room with the door shut. You get food when it’s time to eat. You get water to drink. Your school has stopped. You’ll be confined in this room for a month. Can you stay there alone?”
As her mother’s face appears before her eyes, Bindi’s heart aches. Her mother is the shore of peace spread across her limbs. Grasping her father’s hand, she says, “Say something else.”
Debabrata, pinching Bindi’s cheek, says, “Chandni will now roam around the trees with her mother every day. Tomorrow, when you go to Rajni Badh, you’ll see Chandni flitting around the tops of the trees, enjoying herself. How happy they are! How joyful they are!”
A gentle smile spreads across Bindi’s lips. She gets off the bed, walks over, picks up the doll, and hugs it to her chest, saying, “It’s very beautiful!”
Debabrata had entrusted the responsibility of decorating the room to Dipro. Holding Bindi’s hand, he steps out of the room into the drawing room and sees it decorated with tuberoses, roses, and white lotuses. The room glimmers. A piece of board is hung on the wall. A delicate artist has cut golden paper and written in large letters, “Entering the Ninth Year. Happy Birthday, Bindi.”