Epilogue :Diary of Tweaky- the sparrow

Tweaky returns to Nirvana

That full moon night, Tweaky sneaked into Raj’s room to find his photo, garlanded along with that of the lovely woman’s. Some withered flowers of the garland, carefully sewn together by someone, had fallen off, next to the heap of ashes of the incense. The lively frame of her Raj, that she had craved for, was now reduced to a two-dimensional photo, set up on that desk. What was she to make of the vermillion mark his forehead identical to that on the woman’s forehead?

‘I can’t take it, Raj’, she cried out. Her anguished cry echoed across the empty room. 

Wait, who is strumming the heavenly instrument? Oh, it is so dark around here. 

The window cracked open and a strong breeze rushed in. Startled, Tweaky turned her head slowly, in the direction of the window.

‘What is Zap doing outside the window?’ She saw Zap in a suspended animation, his wings flapping like a bee, except that there was no buzzing noise. Scary! She thought her heart missed a beat, Zap flapping like a bee outside the window, unable to come in, unwilling to disappear out of sight.

The mysterious strumming sound grew louder by the minutes. It was coming from a corner in the room, sounding like coming from deep inside a cave.  

‘Just come in Zap, I can’t take it any more’, She found she was sinking, next to the photo of that lovely woman. Zap didn’t even look at her, and kept flapping his wings outside the window. There was no mirror. But she thought she saw her reflection in the top of the desk. 

As she sank in the solid desk, the vermillion mark from the foreheads of Raj and that woman fell off and the garland flew off, out of the window, pushing out Zap to oblivion. The strumming grew louder and louder, Tweaky shut her eyes, unable to comprehend the mystery unfolding.  

The huge clock on the wall struck mid-night. There was no one to witness the miracle. There was no one there, no photos, no mirror, no Tweaky, no Zap. 

Nothing but dead silence. Everyone had attained nirvana.

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