The black birds of Triaqua

The sun was up from its mountain crib. The lush green grass was sparkling with the melting frost and the soggy soil was ready to sweat. The air was silent except for the mild breeze waltzing with the tall eucalyptus trees shedding their last night’s tears.

The birds in the tiny timepiece chirped 7.The old man rose and sat down on his bed. He was already hours late but somehow couldn’t shake the sleep off. Today he felt his head heavy, his eyes swollen and his mind sick. Triaqua had her morning stage set up as usual but the old man felt so unready to raise his act.

The old man came to Triaqua when he was 20 to take up his dead father’s job as a forest guard. And now he was 70.His children think he is too weak to work now. They want him back home. They want him to fly with them abroad- They don’t want him to be lonely anymore. He had to retire – He knew it.

50 years was too long for a man to remain lonely in the woods-but he wasn’t completely lonely. She was always there for him-To wake him up with her sweet breath and to tuck him into sleep with her soft lullabies. She used to drench him with her downpours and frighten him at times with her thunderous shouts. She was always there for him. She was Triaqua and he was in love with her.

The old man stood up. His legs were a bit shaky. Supporting himself on the bed, he reached for his walking stick and slowly moved to the door. The door opened and there she was- gleaming so bright that the old man had to shut his eyes tight for a moment.His eyes had lost its shine, Age has painted ugly pictures on his skin and his muscles had worn out, leaving just the skin lingering on to his bare bones in many places. But she was still the same. An extravaganza of raw beauty.

He had always had the feeling that Triaqua, though she shines so bright was so sad at times. He never found anything lively and beautiful around her except for the very rare squirrels. Maybe it’s the cold. Triaqua had no beautiful adornments. She was bright and yet sad - like a widow.

The old man raised his hands high and clapped them loud, over and over again. His eyes scanned the horizon. He could not see the approaching black spots in the sky but he could hear them flutter their wings. The black birds landed beside the old man’s feet. He emptied the plate of rice before them and watched them eat. They were black, could not sing, had an ugly black beak and had cruel eyes which showed no signs of gratitude. But he loved them. They were the messengers of Triaqua.And he had been feeding them all this time.50 years have passed and generations of black birds came and went. He had some old favorites whom he could recognize with their grey patch works. He had once decided to name them. But later decided not to, because he felt bad when suddenly one day the old “big beak” would stop coming. So he decided to treat them all alike. To believe that they were all the same, that they never left him- never left Triaqua.

The birds started to leave. The old man walked back to his door. He turned around one last time and took a deep breath. The black birds were flying back.

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Years had passed. Now his eyesight was pathetic and he could not stand up anymore. His children had taken him abroad to their place. He visited them in turn. They paid his air tickets. The house maids took good care of him. He played riddles with his grand children. He was happy and sometimes, before going to sleep he would think of Triaqua and her black birds.

Today is his 80th birthday. And when his son asked him what he wanted as a birthday present, he said he wanted to go back home. And so they sent him back home.
The flight took off and it flew over seas and islands. The old man sat beside the window. He looked out and saw clouds- faint white clouds and through them he saw a small green patch. And as he looked on he saw the eucalyptus trees swaying. He heard the wind whistling through them. He touched the dew drops on the glistening green grass.
He stood up and clapped his hands hard. He heard the fluttering noise of wings. He felt them land on his shoulders and lift him off his wheelchair.He felt the cold dip as they dived through the clouds.He saw them looking down at him.They were black, could not sing, had an ugly black beak and cruel eyes which showed no signs of gratitude. But he loved them. They were the black birds of Triaqua and they were taking him home.