The Parrot's Tale - Second Passage

5. The King wished to see for himself at what an awesome pace the bird's schooling was going on. One day he turned up at the schoolroom with his friends, counselors and courtiers. At once the musicians at the gate struck up on their many wind and percussion instruments. The teachers shook their sacred tufts of hair as they loudly chanted mantras, and all the workmen, labourers, goldsmiths, scribes and their numerous cousins raised slogans in praise of the King.

A nephew commented. "Your Majesty can see how things are going on."

"Astonishing!" replied the King "the din isn't negligible."

'Not only the noise" said the nephew. "The meaning behind it isn't negligible either."

The King was pleased and walked out the gate to mount his elephant when one of the fault-finders, who had been lurking behind bushes, shouted. "Have you seen the bird. Your Majesty?"

The King was startled. He said, There! I'd forgotten about it. We haven't seen the bird." He went back and said to the teacher. "We must see the manner in which you conduct the lessons."

A demonstration followed. It pleased the King no end. The manner was so advanced that the bird was hardly visible. It seemed not at all necessary to see the bird. The King was satisfied that there was no flaw in the arrangements. Inside the cage there was neither any grain nor a drop of water. Only reams of texts were being torn and the pieces of paper thrust into the bird's mouth with the point of a quill. Not only had the singing stopped, there wasn't even scope for screeching. It was thrilling to watch.

This time, as the King mounted the elephant, he ordered the officer entrusted with twisting the ears of mischief-makers to deal with the fault-finder.

6. Predictably, the bird weakened with every passing day. and lay half-dead. The tutors considered it a good sign. Still, out of innate bad habit it would look out at the morning light and flutter its wings in a reprehensible manner. In fact, on some days it would try to cut the wires of the cage with its feeble beak.

"What impudence!" the Inspector of Police commented.

Then the blacksmith arrived with his furnace, bellows and hammer and anvil. What thunderous hammering began then. A chain was fastened on the bird's foot and its wings were trimmed.

The King's brothers-in-law looked greatly annoyed as they shook their heads and said. "It's not just that the birds in this kingdom are stupid, they are also ungrateful."

Then the teachers, armed with quill in one hand and lance in the other, gave a memorable demonstration of teaching.

The blacksmith's trade flourished to such an extent that gold ornaments bedecked his wife's body, and the Police Inspector's alertness earned him a medal.

7. The bird died. When it died was not known. Thanks to the godforsaken detractors the rumor went round. The bird is dead." The King called his nephew and said," What is this I hear?" "Your Majesty," the nephew replied, "the bird's education has been completed." The King asked, "Does it hop?" God forbid," said the nephew. Does it still fly?" "No." "Does it still Sing?" "No." "Does it screech if it isn't fed?" "No." "Bring it to me so that I can see it," said the King. The bird came. Along with it came the Inspector, a guard, a cavalry officer. The King pressed the bird; it made no sound, not even a squeak. Only its stomach let out the rustling noise of dry pieces of paper. Outside, the green shoots of early spring sighed in the southerly breeze, filling the sky above the budding forest trees with wistful melancholy.