Cat and bird...

“Maina! Ye thothi maina!” calls young Meera.
She beckons her pet mynas and parrots to her side. They are the only companions to her soft – but not silent, for she will never stop singing – pain. She has nurtured them from the egg, teaching them to say ‘Radha Krishna’ as soon as their little voices are able to chirp, refusing them food if they will not say the name she longs to hear, whacking them playfully with a broomstick if they pretend they do not understand.
The little parrots, blessed to be able to pronounce such a sweet name – and so often! - are happy to carry Meera’s message to Krishna. They are equally happy, naughtily so, to be a party to Krishna’s teasings.
Meera’s Giridhari, that brazen moptop! The birds fly to him, carrying the message of our heroine’s love, and he hushes his flute, cocks his head to one side like the birds that speak to him, and listens carefully. A dimple peeps out from behind his curls, his eyes flash with mischief, and he whispers a secret into the head parrot’s ear. The parrot conveys the message to his companions and they fly back to an unwitting victim.
“Radha Krishna Bol, Thothi Maina!” sings Meera, promising a reward of seeds.
“Who is Radha? Who is Krishna? Why should we say their names?” ask the birds, who, having fully satiated their hunger on puffed rice and brown sugar, supplied by the very entity they profess ignorance of.
Meera gasps, eyes narrowing. She knows a prank is afoot. She is no simpering heroine, ready to fall in a faint when she is faced with the smallest adversity. She shifts sideways, towards a broomstick, keeping their attention away. “Why, do you not know? Radha and Krishna are the clouds you fly through and the trees you perch on! You must know them very well!” So saying, she clutches the broom, firmly behind her, hiding it from the birds that sought to make her a victim.
“No, no, no, there is no such person as Radha. There is no Krishna. All of this is foolishness. You are living in a dream that cannot become a reality. Grow up! All of these fantasies and fairy tales are only for irresponsible fledglings. You should know better!” The birds always, through the words of that rascal, make perfect sense and seem to speak logic and truth. But is life based on logic and sense?
“How is it that one minute you know not who Radha and Krishna are, and the next minute you speak as though you know of their stories, my pretty birds?” purrs Meera.
“We were only trying to pull you out of your insanity. Even if there is such a person, he is so very far away in the land of Brindavan, and you are here, in Mewar, how could you possibly forge any marriage? Would you forsake your country and your kin for him, princess? Would you leave your grandfather for him?!” Again, they speak words of wisdom, but where the heart is concerned, wisdom can go fly a kite.
Out comes the broom, SWISH! SWISH!
“Do you dare to tell me I am insane? I am insane then! Take THAT! I am insane with love for my Kanna. How can there be distance between us when He is in my heart? He is right here – and know this my birds! These very beatings are not coming from my hand, they are coming from His. Do you presume to think he did not know this is what would occur? Come down here and take your medicine like birds if fledglings you are not!”

The birds did come down. For though they would get beaten, they loved their Meera more than their flesh and feathers. They knew they were all she had and she was all they wanted. To be a part of the greatest romance and the most pure love in this world, they would take a thousand and one lickings and more.

Stay tuned...