Note – first baby steps towards fiction. A part of this is true, I did throw a stone at Mr Rooster. Unfortunately, it did hit him hard.
My name is PCock. The ‘P’ is silent, as in PSmith. Technically, I am a rooster. I am a well-settled cock at a village in southern most part of India. I keep a modest harem of eligible hens. I am big. I am strong. In short, life is good.
I feel rather disturbed this morning. I couldn’t figure out why initially. I thought a wee bit about it for some time. Tried introspecting – why is the old heart so heavy? I concluded that it must be her – “Paaru”, the light of my soul. I thought I should just write it out. Writing helps, you know.
Paru is this cute chick. My neighbour. Well, no more a chick really, but a true warm blooded chicken, with rotund features and a body that I would like to know better. It wasn’t love at first sight you see.. It just …. happened.
We used to hang out together. Our homes are adjacent to each other with a small village road acting as the divider. My home, rather my keeper’s home, doesn’t have as big a backyard as Paaru’s owner’s. Small space, and the continuous cacophony of the demented lot I am surrounded with were sufficient enticements to make me want to take that frightful leap across the road to Paaru’s home. OK, all right, I admit! – those are just ruses. I wanted to be with her.
There was enough of grub to feast upon in Paaru’s backard. One could dig up worms all day hither thither with nary a worry. Plus they didn’t have a dog. Well, that is not exactly on the money – for the dwellers there are worse than dogs – particularly one, the villain of this story. He is a human. I don’t know what his name is, for I don’t speak their language. He is the one who got Paaru there in the first place, and hence brought this little bit of sunshine into my otherwise dreary life. I suppose I should thank him for that, and I did too, until he did what he did.
I tried every trick known-st to cock-kind to woo her. I found out the best places where you would get the juiciest worms and bugs and such. She didn’t even as much as give me a glance. Worse, she used to set forth behind that human parasite. Let us call him “P” for our convenience – ‘P’ for ‘parasite’
Each morning, this P would take his spade and start digging around – I really didn’t know why. Not that he did anything useful anyway. You should watch my keeper working his spade – I tell you, it is art work. True, it is harder to find something to eat if your backyard is all neat and trimmed, but one can’t help admiring it anyway.
So, coming back to Paaru, she would always go with him and then dance around him. I could see him picking out worms and giving it to her. What is wrong with humans? Why was this guy so fixated on a chicken? Sometimes they would get too cosy for my liking. You would see him strutting around with her in his arms. He would scratch and mollycoddle her and she would purr happily in his arms. I would register my protest my cocking loudly. I soon figured out that it ain’t a good idea, ‘coz that moron seemed to relish throwing stones at me. I soon figured out that the best way to dodge his missiles was to stay put where you are – he was the master of mishits.
Nyways, slowly but surely I did manage to engage her attention. I am after all, what you would call a handsome cock. She was quite haughty at first, but I kept persevering. Soon she did not seem to mind me tagging along with her. After a few days, she seemed to evince a passing interest in the worms that I would dig out for her. She would come and pick on a few of them, but she never said anything. But I could sense it – she was weighing me. She probably liked me, but didn’t want to show it. Hens! I tell you – they never think straight!
I wasn’t entirely sure I was in love with her. I liked her of course, but I didn’t feel that crazy sense of that-is-my-girl kinda feeling. That was until I saw her one day, sunning herself. It was noon time. She was lying on her side, her legs outstretched, wings unfolded. The feathers on her wing fluttered gently in the mild afternoon breeze. She was half asleep – one eye half closed. Her bosom heaved gently while she lay there – warming up her golden feathers. It hit me suddenly.. Bang! I knew life would never be the same again.. I knew she was the one.
A fierce passion to be with her seized me. I could feel blood throbbing through my arteries – she had just opened my floodgates of love. But she would not let me touch her. She would let me be with her though. Days passed.. Soon she started coming to me. Each day we would set out.. Oh! What joyous days they were! Finally, that day came. I could see it in her eyes.. Words unspoken, but two hearts beating as one. I lost sense of time.. or where we were. I embraced her.. and… well.. modesty permits me to be explicit here.
Pluck! I felt a sudden spasm on my back! I flew 2 feet in the air and landed with a thud! That was incredible! You see that was my first time! I didn’t realize you got a hard hitting sensation on your back – none of my buddies had mentioned that about their first times. I tried to stand – a bit unsettled. Damn! Love hurt!
I looked at her. She had a confused look on her face. I stood for a moment wondering what I should do next. Whooosh! Another spasm of pain up my spine. My instincts kicked in. That wasn’t love.. There was something else going on … it was a stone! That son of a *&#^@&#$#, “P” was throwing stones at me! And the damn stones were hitting me hard and bang on! Venting loudly the rage in my soul, I rushed past him and half ran, half flew to my home, my injured pride following my wake. I leaped across the village road, landed on my backyard and looked back. That sick moron was laughing, he seemed rather pleased! All this noise had attracted the attention of the whole lot at my home. The buffaloes gave me vacant stares. The hens, who were busy fighting with each other stopped, and were watching the proceedings with unconcealed amusement. I could see a whole lot of emotions. Concern, serves you right, indifference.. you name it, it was there on somebody’s face.
Crushed, I looked back. Paru didn’t seem to mind much. She was busy eating a heap of grains that the hound had given her. I stood there.. I looked at him. I didn’t do it consciously, but the words foamed deep inside – “May you find love only to lose it! You moron!”. I had never cursed anyone before, and probably will never again, but what was said was said.
I stood there staring at both of them, and then limped back to my coop.
(Addendum, after a year)
These days he does not throw stones at me. I have walked past him many times – he does not even bother to spare me a glance. I have thought about it long and hard.
I wish I could roll back that curse! I miss his stones.