Bruised Maina Bird
You were a free bird,
Singing melodious tunes on tree branches,
Merrily jumping from tree to tree at your wish,
Till you got trapped in a cage for human pleasure.
The owner taught you her heartfelt song,
"whisper in my ears when my beloved will be home",
You sang the song when she came near you,
She got happy and fed you a few pieces of grain.
Feathers once soft with the dew of dawn
Now bear the weight of echoes and bars;
Your eyes, glass pools of longing, draw
The thin lines where freedom slips and scars.
You sang of mango blossoms, of rain’s first breath,
Of distant hills that held your wings at play;
Yet here you sit under shadowed roof—
Your melody stifled by steel, day after day.
Still your voice trembles on the strains of hope:
A flute against thunder; a whisper in storm;
Though battered, your heart recalls the sky,
Its boundless blue, its infinite form.
Oh Maina, though bruised, you are not broken;
Your song bends, but never yields its gold;
For even ruined dawn may bloom again—
And even caged, the brave bird’s tale is told.
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