Merchant and Parrot (Short Story)

                                              

Disclaimer- This is a 900 years old classic anecdote by Rumi. Rumi was a 13th-century Persian poet, philosopher, and mystic whose poems have been translated into numerous languages.

Many years ago, a Persian merchant was given a beautiful parrot as a gift by his Indian trading collaborators. He kept the parrot in a formidable cage, where he could watch her and listen to her melodious song every day when he lounged after his long hours at the job. The time of year came when he generally toured to India on a buying trip, and as is customary he asked his household help what they wanted him to bring back as gifts for them.

Each person asked for something near to his or her heart, and so did the little green parrot.

“My dear master, my heart desires nothing from my motherland,” she said morosely. “But, should you come across a group of parrots like myself, would you please convey my greetings and tell them that I’m imprisoned in a cage in Persia, and I miss them terribly. Ask them whether they think it’s fair that they’re flying freely throughout the land while their cousin is slowly dying in captivity. I beg you to ask them on my behalf for advice on how I should reckon my situation.”

The merchant didn’t think much about the parrot’s demand and promised to find the birds and deliver her message exactly as she had voiced it. Once in India, he diligently tended to his business but did not forget his promise of gifts for his servants or the parrot’s message.

One day, traveling from one town to the next, he came across a group of parrots chirping noisily in a forest. He stopped his horse and delivered his parrot’s message faithfully, but before he could finish, one of the parrots began to shiver uncontrollably, falling off the branch he’d been perched on and suddenly died. The merchant ran to save the parrot, but the little bird looked perfectly dead!

He became distraught, feeling overwhelming guilt that he’d caused the poor bird’s demise unnecessarily. He wondered whether the fallen bird was related to his parrot and had died from grief hearing about his trapped cousin.

Is it not true that the human tongue is like an uneasy aggregation of rock and iron, which, when struck against each other can spark off a fire?

He regretted having recited his parrot’s message, but there was nothing he could do now, so he continued with his duties until he finished them up, and he returned home.

Upon his arrival, he distributed the gifts that each servant had asked for but said nothing to his parrot. The bird, who had been impatiently awaiting the response of her mates, grew increasingly anxious and at last, couldn’t hold back any longer, asked the merchant: “So, where’s my gift? Tell me, what did you see and hear from the Indian parrots?”

“I’d rather not remember!” said the merchant somberly.

“Master, what’s the matter? Why this long face?”

“I told your story to a group of parrots in the woods,” he said reluctantly. “But, before I could finish, one of them began to shiver, then fell from the tree and died! I’ll never forgive myself for causing the poor bird’s death. But what’s the use? It is like the arrow which once leaves the bow shall never return, and so are words that leave our lips.”

But before the merchant could finish his sentence, the little parrot fell from her perch and dropped dead on the floor of the cage. The merchant could hardly believe his eyes; he burst into tears, quickly blaming himself for causing yet another innocent death. He became hysterical, cursing and repenting, not comprehending why all this was happening. He walked back and forth staring at his bird, who lay motionless on a heap of leaves on the floor of her exquisite cage. He caressed the parrot’s feathers tenderly, remembering her harmonious song, which had given him so much pleasure for so long.

After a while, the merchant hesitantly opened the dainty cage door and carefully picked up the bird, carrying her to the garden and laying her on the ground while he dug a grave to bury her. Instantly, the parrot shot up to the nearest tree and perched on a high branch, looking contentedly at her former master. The merchant was awestruck, not fathoming the mystery of the words he had uttered.

“My darling bird, I’m thrilled to see you’re alive and well, but tell me, what did I say that prompted you to emulate your cousin in India? Tell me your secret now that you’re free.”

“That parrot was no relation to me, but by his action, he taught me how to free myself!” confessed the jolly parrot. “Without actually speaking, he helped me understand that my imprisonment was due to my beautiful song, my talent for entertaining you and your guests. My precious voice was the cause of my servitude! By his action, he taught me that my freedom would lie in the act of dying... in the sense of forsaking my attachment to my worldly talents, which I had prized so highly.”

The parrot bid her merchant master farewell for the last time and quickly flew out of sight.

Moral - Passion and talent are important but freedom is non-negotiable.