The Wonderful Bird

This story was narrated to me by my granny, to my granny by hers and to that granny by her granny in turn, and so on. We can trace this chain up to the granny who lived as far back as five hundred years ago, and was a direct participant in the events of which you are about to hear.

At that time she was a young girl, was this granny, and she had just got married to a man with a very big nose. In those days getting a spouse with a big nose was believed to be very lucky.  In my story, not only did this man have a prominent nose, he also was kind, honest and hard working. And to give him credit, he wasn’t a ‘nosy’ parker either!

Have you ever noticed that there are people who have hairs coming out from their nostrils? You have, haven’t you? Similarly, there also are people who have hair growing right on their noses.

As for our man, whose name, by the way, was Mitrofan, not only did he have hairs, he had bushes growing on his nose. His new bride used to trim these bushes beautifully, so that in no time, on her husband’s nose, there turned out a neat little garden.

A little bird started visiting this garden regularly, and it flew from one bush to another in it while singing happy songs. It grew quite fond of this new found place and soon made it her home. Both Mitrofan and his wife were very happy about it.

Mitrofan’s earned his living by selling suits and dresses that he himself stitched, to patrons in the city.

One day, as he was getting ready to go to the market with his goods, Mitrofan heard the bird singing, “Don’t go, don’t go!” Almost immediately thereafter, it started raining very heavily, and then the rain turned into a bad storm. For the rest of the day the weather remained so nasty that no one dared to step out of their houses. And of course, there were no people at the market as a result.

“Clever bird,” thought Mitrofan, “It did me a really good turn.” He decided from then on to always pay attention to what the wonderful talking bird said.

The next Sunday, the moment Mitrofan started collecting his things for the market, the bird started singing, “Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!” He collected his wares and headed to the market without delay.

There were many buyers in the market that day, and they bought Mitrofan’s dresses at the first price quoted, without even pausing to bargain. All this while when Mitrofan was conducting his business, the bird perched itself on his ear and advised him on what to sell and what not to, and what price to quote each time. Mitrofan made a big profit that day and on the way back home, bought gifts for his wife and a bag of sunflower seeds for the bird. This practice became routine.

Gradually Mitrofan, with the help of the bird, acquired enough money to build a new house and buy many useful things for his wife and children, of whom by that time, he had four.

Close by in the neighborhood there lived a lazy man whose name was Mitrofan too, and who idled away his time picking his tiny nose. Knowing his cunning nature, the townspeople, instead of Mitrofan, called him Shysterfan. Over time, Shysterfan grew very jealous of Mitrofan’s success.

One day, Shysterfan asked Mitrofan how he had suddenly become so successful in business. The trusting and helpful Mitrofan explained truthfully. “I am not the one to keep secrets. Frankly, there is a talking bird that helps me.”. Shysterfan didn’t quite believe Mitrofan, but nonetheless, hatched a treacherous plan to try and get to the bottom of the matter.

Shortly thereafter, Shysterfan invited Mitrofan over for a glass of beer. Over beer, question by question, this mean neighbour extracted the whole story of the bird and the success that it brought to Mitrofan’s life.

When Mitrofan, who was otherwise not a drinker started feeling sleepy, Shysterfan stretched his hand out towards Mitrofan’s nose, and the bird, unsuspectingly, came to his palm. Shysterfan caught it at once and locked it up in a cage. His nose was small, and there was no way that the bird would be comfortable on it.

“It’s time for you to serve me now, silly bird,” he shouted to the bird rudely. “Do you understand?” “I do, I do,” answered the bird, very frightened at the outburst. Next, Shysterfan woke Mitrofan up and sent him home.

When Mitrofan came back home without his bird, my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great granny, young, but wise, consoled her husband, “Don’t get disheartened. Very soon Shysterfan will himself bring our bird back, you’ll see.”

The first thing that Shysterfan did in the morning the following day was to cry out to the bird, “I know you can give me much more than you gave to my neighbor, Mitrofan. Now, if you don’t want me to mash your little head like a potato, grant me my wishes. My first wish is that instead of water there should be beer in my well.”

The bird fulfilled this wish.

All through the day the evil Shysterfan drank beer like a fish from his well, mug after mug after mug. By the evening he developed a splitting headache.

“Maybe, I should have something to eat with my beer,” he slurred. “You silly bird, I want to eat!  And I don’t want ordinary food, I want a banquet.”

At once, in the yard of his house Shysterfan saw trays and plates laid out with the most savory dishes that he could imagine. “Wow!” exclaimed Shysterfan as he started devouring the delicacies without pausing for thought.

After the night of gluttony when he woke up in the morning, Shysterfan saw that he had indigestion in addition to the headache from the day before. To rid himself of the hangover, he drank more beer and had more to eat from what was left over from the night’s feast, but nothing helped. He remained as miserable as before.

“Never mind,” he thought. “There is more to life than drinking and eating. There are other pleasures too to indulge in. Let me try something else.”

“Silly bird, I want good dresses and riches. At once!” he yelled.

Right in front of his eyes, he saw the doors of his closets opening and unseen hands filling them with fancy dresses. Simultaneously, all the rooms in the house, the terrace, and even the backyard were filled with bags of gold coins.

Shysterfan was impressed. “Wow, again!” he ejaculated. He put on the best dress of all from the newly acquired selection and proudly marched to the bags to admire his collection of gold. The moment he saw the gold, his headache disappeared. He was the happiest man in the world at that moment.

There was a small worry, though. Shysterfan needed to carry the bags from the yard to the house, but they were too heavy. How could he leave riches like this, unprotected, in the yard for the night?

He started panicking, and his headache came back. Shysterfan decided to carry the gold coins in a vessel and piling them on the floor of his room, but the more gold that he brought inside, the more there seemed to be left outside. All through the night the greedy Shysterfan kept busy carrying the gold to the house. By morning he was exhausted, but he couldn’t allow himself a break because there was no one to guard the gold that remained in the yard. My, wasn’t he miserable! Even this demand of the bird had turned into a misadventure. He thought he’d try something else.

“Listen, you stupid creature,” he yelled at the bird, “I want to get married, and I want to get married not just to any simple woman as my next door neighbour’s did, but to someone who is no less than a princess. I command you to find me one right now!”

At once, in front of him, there stood a princess, stately, and all in diamonds and lace. Her regal demeanor could easily take one’s breath away.

“Wow,” whispered Shysterfan, too nonplussed to talk any louder. “What a beauty! She is a real princess indeed.”

“A glass of water!” He heard the princess order. She was thirsty after this travel through time and space.

“In this house there’s only beer,” pleaded the hapless Shysterfan. “May I bring you a mugful?”

The princess, angry at this insolence, gave him a tight slap on the cheek.

“Where is the throne that I am expected to sit on?” She next demanded.

“I have no thrones to offer. Why don’t you sit on a chair?” Shysterfan murmured apprehensively. In answer, the princess gave him another tight slap, this time on the other cheek. Once again, the evil Shysterfan dared not say anything in protest. His legs felt wobbly.

“Where is my royal bedroom?” continued the princess indignantly, and in the same vein.

“I have only one bed room and one bed. It’s the one I occupy, and I am afraid it may not be royal enough.”

To show both her indignation and displeasure, the princess raised her long and beautiful dress and kicked Shysterfan on the shin.

‘Ouch!” he screamed, “Is this the way you are going to treat me when we get married?”

“What else do you expect? I am a princess after all, and you are but a nobody. As for your riches, fooh!,” she blew. All the bags with gold, and the pile of gold coins in the room disappeared at once. “As for your dresses, fooh!,” she blew again. This time not only did all the dresses vanish from the closets, but Shysterfan lost the dresses on his back too, and stood before the princess in his birthday suit. This was positively the last straw.

“I have had enough. Remove the princess from here at once!” shouted Shysterfan to the bird.

The princess was gone just as she had appeared. The evil Shysterfan opened the cage and yelled at the bird. “That was the worst experience of my life. Go away, you hateful creature! I want peace.”

The bird flew out of the cage, but strangely enough it didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave the house as Shysterfan had expected it to do, and instead, it started singing loudly and flying all over the place.

“Shut up, you silly bird,” yelled Shysterfan. “I want peace and quiet. Shut up at once!”

The bird’s songs became louder. In trying to catch it, the evil Shysterfan was scratched and bruised. At last he admitted defeat. “I give up,” he said. “I know what you want. Get back into the cage, and I will take you back to your home.”

There were no words exchanged between Mitrofan and his covetous neighbour when the bird was brought back. The bird flew out of the cage and landed happily on Mitrofan’s nose. Although happy that the bird had been returned, Mitrofan and his family didn’t experience any feeling of victory as the saw Shysterfan’s miserable plight and learnt of the events in his house.

How did Mitrofan’s family get to know of every detail of what happened to their evil neighbor, you might ask? None other than the little bird told them the whole story. This is why, when somebody says, “A little bird told me”, it could just be that they are telling the truth!