The Stray Bird
[ Home ]One morning in the early Spring, I, at sixteen years old, am writing my novel about a magician and a white bird, when he suddenly walks into the classroom. He is like a pebble dropping into a lake, which quickly ripples the whole lake. He stands in front of all the students, and says, "Nice time to meet you, my name is Kimihiro Mochizuki. "
At that time, I am quite inferior at school. I do not have pretty face or high score, and I am not good at PE or music either. I am the one like a shadow, who is born to follow the others. Having these thoughts wandering in my head, I do not pay too much attention to studying, to the upcoming examination which will decide the direction of my life. When the sensei is teaching us Haikus in the textbook, I am thinking about my stories.
A forgotten and abandoned person. Nobody will notice the girl who likes to walk along the corner of the corridor even if she needs help.Most of the time, she likes to think her own stories and tales in her little corner, letting the teachers' voice become the background music, and quietly but carefully write them down on a blue-cover notebook. Most of the time, her thoughts are like wind, as you will never know where they are and where they go.
I expect he will choose to sit with the boys at the front, or the girls who are as attractive as roses and lilies. However, he walks directly to me, an unnamed flower, and says, "Konichiwa, Amenomiya Yuuko. "
A few days later, the score of the maths examination comes out. My paper is still the last one, which means I get the lowest mark. When the school is finished, it is rainy outside, but I have no umbrella. I want to ask my mother to send me one, but I know she has not finished her work under the red lights. I also can not expect my father to do that, as he might be gambling with his "friends" and does not want anyone to interrupt. So I just squat down in front of my classroom, staring at a stray bird ambling, and start waiting for the rain to stop.
Warm tears drop constantly to the ground through my face with no sound, until a hand puts an umbrella on the ground.
Spring leaves too quickly, like a splendid wink of the nature. Ivy has covered the whole surface of the building wall, and sakura petals become a pink, long carpet. Blades of grass fade into yellow from fresh green, their hair swinging in summer wind. The stray birds start to wander in the school, and I soon get familiar with one which has a black tail feather. It looks aloof with the others and because of its colour, no other birds like to stay with it. Sometimes the others will even pick up stones and throw at it. But the bird, however, will do the same thing like me, find a corner and heal its cuts and bruises quietly, without any help.
Since Kimihiro has come, I am forced to listen to the teachers during the classes, and I am also forced to have lunch with him to study maths in the girls' strange and envious looks. He tells me he has just moved from Hokkaido. He tells me that his favourite subject is literature, and his favourite poet is Rabindranath Tagore, the famous Indian poet.
I ask him to help with my literature homework. It is about writing about a poem about a simple object which can explain yourself. I want to write about the connection between the stray bird and me, but I can not think about a good ending. I almost want to give it up.
Kimihiro looks at my poem, and he frowns, "Very strange. "
"What? "
"…Nothing. It‘s because you do not have talent in literature."
I am irritated. Who gives him courage to judge me? We argue for a long time, but we do not figure out any results. In the afternoon, he leaves the school when nobody notices, and I do not pay so much attention to his leaving.
Summer is passing, and the birds are singing their songs. Time is like stream, which is never allowed to stop.My father keeps losing money, and my mother can not bear it anymore. Once when they are arguing, I hear her screaming, "Let's divorce! I don't want to live with you and raise that kid anymore! I married you because you were wealthy! I adopted her and accepted her because you were wealthy! But you lose all the money! "
My heart breaks into pieces at that moment. For the first time, I realise I am still too fragile.
The next day, Kimihiro comes back to school. I invite him for lunch, and he, surprisingly, agrees.
Both of us are silent until on the way back to the classroom after lunch, I ask him, "Has Rabindranath Tagore said anything about difficulties in life? "
Then he lends me The Stray Birds, one volume of Tagore's poetry anthology, and I can remember it forever, because in this book, there is a sentence written:
The world has kissed my Soul with its pain, asking for its return in Songs.
It is just like me, and also the bird.
I want to copy the whole book, then I can return it to him.
But I can never return it.
The last time I see Kimihiro is at the end of summer.
Birds are deleted from the sky, and all the greens begin to disappear. The whole world seems to sink into the ink of Autumn, which is a mixture of yellow and brown.
Kimihiro is lying in the bed in the hospital. His face is pale, his body is bony, his eyes are blank.
"I help you, because you are just like me, " he says.
I keep his book after he dies. And strangely, with no force from him, I start to pay more attention to my senseis. Teachers begin to notice me, and they are thoroughly surprised when I get 100% in both Japanese and Literature.
When autumn comes, it is the time to leave. Leaves lie on the ground, covering my way back home. My parents have divorced, and I go with my aunt. She treats my better than my father, and I believe that she will not harm me. Even if she does, having experienced so many things, I am no longer the little girl who was so inferior and afraid. I am strong enough to face the journey which is waiting for me.
Now I ready know how to face the misty road ahead.
The world has kissed my Soul with its pain, and I will return it in Songs.