RETURN OF THE NIGHT OWL

It’s frustrating, fixating and freaky to see the difficulties and limitations writers have to face while living in a world of such developments and growth. Coming from a country where I can’t use stripe, so no vocal+ for me. Therefore, no challenges? Yes, that’s right. But, I continue to write. I won’t let any laws, policies or barriers stop me from doing what I do best, write. So, here I am with a true story featuring an oddly handsome owl.

An old styled villa built back in the day looked homely with red bricks and fresh white paint from a mile away. It had its own special welcoming aura like you’d have around those houses with large happy families. It stood right in the centre of the property. The front and the backyard on the left side of the villa was all garden while the other half was a driveway with few bushes here and there, literally everywhere.

The balcony of the villa was not accessible. The residents were hardly seen using it. This wasn’t because of a jammed door or a weak roof but because of a huge Sheesham tree. The tree of age and wisdom knew it’s time had come to seek support after one dark, stormy night of thunderstorm. The balcony had saved the gigantic tree from getting wrecked and surprisingly the house was strong enough to take its weight. Tree was hugging the balcony and no objections were raised at such a sweet friendship of love and support.

On the grassy ground beneath the window of the drawing room of the villa, I saw a double toned cat. She walked majestically and saw me with her piercing green eyes. “Meow!” and she climbed the tree swiftly as she gave me a mean grin. As I strolled around the garden, I took a peek at the back and there was a paradise of flowers and vegetable, green and colourful. From spinach to roses, carrots to daisies, cherry tomatoes to chrysanthemums. With peach trees and mango trees, strawberry bushes to green hedges, parrots and sparrows, cats and kittens, nature of all sorts was all in one place, growing and playing together.

I was careful to not step on any fruit, vegetable or a flower stem. Stepping my way through the temporary single brick path to the back I saw chairs sitting in the winter sun, warm and cozy. I quickly hopped on to one, crossed my legs and pulled my hair off my loose messy bun. I sat with my back turned towards the sun and relaxed in utter peace, calm and comfort. As I partially open my eyes, I saw the window of the master room open wide. The lace curtains fluttering with the light breeze and sun illuminating the room with bright golden rays.

Sitting in the sun can really dehydrate you and with a parched mouth I stormed into the kitchen to find a staged set of glasses. While I was filling a glass with some filtered water, a tiny sparrow flew and sat on the window pane adjacent to the cooking slab. With my sharp eyes I saw few crumbs scattered around as the bird gazed in desperation. I gently unzipped my handbag and took out a half eaten pack of wholegrain biscuits. I crumbled a biscuit and gently placed it on the slab. The bird hopped into the heap and enjoyed the meal while I poured some water in a shallow earthen pot for it. The feast was surely going to give the little bird an upset tummy but none of us cared in that blissful moment.

The day was coming to an end, even though it was just five thirty in the evening. Winter days have a late start and an early end, but not for some creatures of nightfall.

With the sun disappearing and the sky losing its multi hue canvas to a dull dark shade of coldness and quietness, my footsteps were all that I could hear.

The villa suddenly turned dark and cold. I switched on a few lamps and then I walked to the backyard to turn on a dim bulb. While struggling to find the switch I heard a sound. I stood still and thought it must be the cat who lived in a shed in the backyard. I switched on the light and turned around slowly. It was dull and blurry.

There was no cat. There was no person either. But there was some smoke and two beautiful golden piercing eyes looking at me with doubt. The following second I saw the wings fly over me as they settled on a branch of the towering date tree. The night was too cold to stay out for long but I had to make sure that I wasn’t hallucinating as it all felt very surreal. The caretaker of the villa had returned. The owl.

With a burning cigarette clutched in its claw, took a puff or two as it seemed, it majestically sat on the tree with grace and pride. It’s kingly mien with a wise streak spooked the night of stillness and emptiness. The boss was ready to stay awake through the night. And guard those who lived in the villa, only after dusk. Their giggles and whispers, subtle movements and presence gave the owl company.

Time for me to leave had come. As I walked away from the owl, it started to feel closer. I refused to look back and paced hurriedly towards my car. Suddenly, it became windy and with every light gust of wind the old house groaned. The residents of the house, figures with no shadows returned with the return of the handsome night owl. Well, was the owl one of them? The mystery stays as people continue to see the owl every now and then.