Being and knowing
The city of men and women. Young and old. All knew the Koel. Ebony feathered, plain, morbid. With her small sweet voice and common appeal. She could more than sing. She would talk to everyone in the city. About real things. Things that really really matter. Groceries, bills, business deals, jobs, and important things. The koel had more to her than her small sweet voice. She had societal understanding and impact. Sadly for the koel, there came a day that a Nightingale befell the city - of the young and old. Of men and women. She drew their attention with her massive charm beauty and melody. But the nightingale could but only sing. She could but only be. Like the naive self absorbed frog in the well. She could be in both land and sea. Like a mythical creature. For she swam like a fish, lest like the mermaid. The nightingale would sing. All day all night. She would sing for love. She would sing for joy. She would sing for her own melody's sake. The city was drawn to her rare being. She sang songs for no reason. With no purpose. With no intentions. Neither for praise nor attention. Neither for them nor the koel. She sang her way. Her, her melody and the existence merging as one. She sang for all of life. The city of the young and old- men and women- the city of people with purpose, could not comprehend the purposeless creature. Their only bond with the nightingale was their 'amusement'. Their 'curiosity'. Which only lead to more curiosity. Questions- like- where is she from? Why does she claim to be unlike us? Why wont she talk like the rest of us? Eventually the koel heard of her too. The koel thought to herself - the nightingale was a joke. A silly myth. But after seeing the nightingale, the koel began pondering like the rest. Thus the koel went on to call the nightingale- A farce. A non comprehensible creature demanding attention. A creature worthy of contempt. A show of ridicule. She conviced the city dwellers of the same. She promised them welfare in the form of undue wealth and credit. Some of which were rightfully the nightingale's. Under the condition that the nightingale be gotten rid of. She had begun to eat away the koel's peace of mind, with her controversial fame and attraction. But the koel within her deepest self, a place of conscience knew better. The koel tried with much desperation and exasperation- to do all things the nightigale did. She mimiced the nightingale endlessly. In vain. The koel knew. The koel knew. Like she knew from the beginning. The koel knew.