Sunday, March 25, 2012

A Flash of Pink


Once upon a time, there was a parrot.
The parrot had a normal life, living life as a parrot would.
The parrot repeated what was heard and saw nothing wrong with it.
Then, there was a mockingbird, who sang glorious melodies as it flew across the skies outside.
The parrot, having lived all its life in a cage, was captivated by the mockingbird.
It thought to itself, "How great life would be outside these bars!"
The parrot imitated the mockingbird, in hopes of one day being just as free.
It sang. It sang again and again. It forgot how to speak, but it could sing.
No one understood it anymore, but the parrot didn't mind.
One day, the parrot escaped the cage, finally to enjoy the freedom.
It flew out the window, out into the open, towards the sky.
It thought it could fly over the clouds and marvel at the newly discovered world.

But no one understood Edna anymore.
Not even Robert, whom she thought shared the same thoughts.

It remembered the time it saw the mockingbird. How amazing it thought it would have been.
Instead, now it saw a pigeon with broken wings, fluttering, and ultimately falling into the sea.
It was a tough world out there for a parrot.
No one understood it.

Edna thought swimming out where "no woman had ever swum before" would mean freedom. And in the end, she does exactly that. She swims and swims. Far out.
This time, she's not coming back. She's not afraid.
Edna once said that she would sacrifice her life, but not herself, for her children. She fulfils this by committing suicide, while retaining her beliefs.
Edna failed to overcome the oppresion, the prejudice.
So she goes to the beach, where it all started.
She sees "a bird with a broken wing" falling into the water.
She goes into the water, never to come back out.


The parrot could not swim, but everything was alright. It could sing.
So it sang. No one would understand it, but it didn't care anymore.
Perhaps some bird could understand it, but "it was too late; the shore was far behind [it], and [its] strenth was gone.
It sang as the currents took over its body.
It sang while the waves dragged it under.
It sang until the water ran into its lungs.
A flash of pink.
Then nothing.

Nothing for the parrot at least.
Life goes on.

In death, Edna was truly free, but could no longer be understood.
If so, was death a form of waking up, or going back to sleep?

Well, life goes on.
Speaking of life, when the alarm clock rings tomorrow, do I wake up or go back to sleep?

No comments:

Post a Comment