By Amber (fwd)

[Shashikanth Hosur]

The Purple Flamingo and the Ostrich

by Amber, copyright © 1992
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was once in Aud the most beautiful and most rare of birds, a purple
flamingo. A rare flower of her race was she, blue gold of wing, graceful of
stride, and quiet as the falling dew. In all of Aud none could compare with the
gentleness of her spirit or the calmness of her gaze. Across the width and
breadth of Aud's hot Savannah summers, kindness and understanding flowed in her
wake.

But Aud is a land of twists and turns, exotic and strange, where fate like a
silent panther stalks the night, seeking the unwary. And all alike must heed
the play of life and death, lest the cry in the dark be their own.

Now in this land of joy and of sorrow there lived an ostrich. He was a proud
bird. A runner and a scout for the flock, searching the land for jungle beasts
with predacious inclinations, warning his fellows of danger, and planning the
strategies of defence. He was a respected member of the flock, with ambitions
of advancement and hopes for the prettiest of wives and the loudest of
children.

One morn' the ostrich arose from a bed of ferns and willows to a sound
different from all others. Toward the rising light, before the sun's red glow,
a swoop of birds parlayed with the dawn. Pink and lovely, calling to one
another over the mists, the flamingos were gliding to their feeding grounds in
the distant marsh lands. The fires of the sun lit their wings as they danced
and soared, heedless of the groundstuck watcher before them. And for that
watcher a single thought occurred: Though he could run like the wind, he could
not fly. For an ostrich, the skies were forever closed, and the sun a distant
and unattainable light to which he could never aspire.
and unattainable light to which he could never aspire.
[Image]
        Tears streamed from his proud face as he watched the flamingos depart.
Such beauty! Such freedom of movement! To soar with one's fellows, high above
the Savannah, sailing high and free through air and light and sky. Oh! To be
forever above the dangers of the ground, high above fears of sudden, ugly
death. "But for me", he thought, "such joyful crimson soaring is forever
barred". And for the first time in his life the ostrich felt incomplete and
alone.

                                 ------------
Now this is not the usual story about a dream and a quest with ultimate
redemption at the end. Not at all.

The ostrich did not suddenly leave his responsibilities to the flock to seek
out a way by which he too could soar with the flamingos of the dawn. Nor did he
struggle through pain and tears, overcoming tremendous obstacles until at long
last, after much travail and difficulty, he found the wondrous purple flamingo
who answered his life's longings. No. This story is not like that at all.

The ostrich may have been proud, but he was proud with justification - he was
no fool. He knew that many might die if he abrogated his responsibilities as
scout to the flock. Though his heart ached with the pain of denied flight, he
knew he must remain. As he watched the flamingos vanish toward the marshes that
red red morning, he realized this: If he pursued the mystery of flight he would
probably fail, for his body, while superb for racing across the grasslands was
simply not designed for soaring. He knew that his place in Aud was guiding the
flock away from danger, and helping his sisters and his brothers defend the
little ones.

Yet he wondered: "Why am I saddened by seeing such beauty? I cannot fly. Why do
I need more?"

So the ostrich resolved that each day he would set aside one hour to try in any
way he could to find the answer to his question.

At first he sought the wisdom and advice of his friends. But although they were
kind and listened carefully to his questions, they had no answers for him.

Next he sought out the very old, the elders of the flock. "Perhaps their vast
experience will provide an answer", he thought.

But they only urged him to forget such foolishness, and attend to his duties to
the flock.

In desperation, he decided to seek the wisdom of the great killers of the
grasslands - the tigers. For he had seen the care and cunning of their kind.
Surely such cunning also bred wisdom.

The feline hunters were quick and fearsome. Death at their paws was swift and
sure. But as a scout, he knew their ways, and knew that after a kill they were
less likely to attack at his approach. He waited many weeks, until finally an
opportunity presented itself: he came upon a tiger satiated after the fresh
kill of a young zebra foal. As he carefully approached the circle of the kill,
the tiger watched with benign indifference.

"Greetings great one", he called to the tiger.                          [Image]
"And to you, O groundling bird."
"I have come to seek the wisdom of your council. Will you hear my question?"
"A strange request from one such as you," grunted the tiger. "But the sun is
warm, and my belly full. Ask away, and I shall give what council I may."
"Thank you, great one. My question is this. I have watched the freedom of the
flamingos as they fill the sky with their passing. And I too have wished to
soar the heavens. Yet I am a runner and though swift, am not capable of flight.
This is the way of the world, and I accept it. Yet what I crave to understand
is this: Why do I yet yearn for flight and the freedom it brings? Why do I wish
more than my lot?"

The tiger growled at this, and rose up on his haunches. He lunged at the
ostrich roaring power and death at the terrified bird. The ostrich froze in the
power of that roar, shivering before the glare of those immense eyes of fire.
The ostrich stood unmoving, seeing his death before him.

Then the tiger yawned, licked its lips, and settled back down with a somewhat
amused expression on his golden face. After a few moments, the tiger spoke:

"Where are your questions now, foolish bird? That is my answer to you. Now go."

Away ran the ostrich, running, running; desperate to get away. In his ears rang
the sound of the tiger's laughter. Yet even as he ran in terror and
mortification, he wondered what the tiger had meant.
                                 ------------

The years passed. The ostrich now had a pretty bride and a flurry of young. He
no longer scouted, but had become a leader of the flock, renowned for his
fairness and his wisdom. He had pursued his inner question: Why did he want
more? Why did he wish to fly? But now there was a difference. Years of
pondering had helped him to see the great gift that the tiger had given. For he
had found that in that instant of surprise and terror, for a brief moment his
mind had quieted. His questions had, in that moment of quiet, ceased.

In the silence of the tiger's roar the need for answers had vanished.

The years came and went; the flock grew and the ostrich aged. Yet unlike his
fellows he found his mind clear, unencumbered and free. He had become a
venerated elder. His wife had become a shaman and healer of the flock, and some
of his children had themselves become scouts. In his old age he had found a
freedom for which he had never sought. His mind was clear and sharp, his
thoughts free.
                                 ------------

One bright morning as he stood looking toward the rising sun, the flamingos
appeared again in their glory, as they had so long ago. But this time he walked
slowly toward them, until he stood below as they sailed red and golden in the
light above him.

"I have seen you before", said a soft voice behind him.

"Yes Mistress, and I have seen you many times over the years, flying with your
flock. I have heard of your grace and your goodness; that you spread joy and
wisdom with your passage."

"Yet you have never sought me out?"

"No. Thanks to the kindness of my teacher - a venerable tiger - so many years
ago. Through him I learned how to explore within myself. I have found my
heart's desire within my own being."

"And what was it you found, gentle ostrich?"

"Only myself, Mistress.". He paused a moment in thought. "I knew that I could
not fly, as I yearned to do, nor could I relinquish my responsibilities to the
flock. But I was unhappy. So there was only one place left for me to turn, and
that was within myself. The tiger showed me how to look. He showed me that
whatever emotion or feeling was dominant in my mind temporarily suppressed all
other needs or thoughts."

"So you knew that even the strongest yearning, your need to fly, was
temporary?"

"Yes, and therefore it couldn't have been as vital as I had supposed. In my
terror at the tiger's roar, all my deepest yearnings temporarily vanished... so
I understood that they were passing things only. Instead I wanted something
permanent and lasting."

"How did you come to realize that the only thing that lasts is the quiet of the
mind?"

"I simply stopped chasing after that which was transitory. Then to my wonder
and joy, I found that all that was left was my sense of being. My own
consciousness."

"But not a consciousness of something...?"

"No, the simple fact of consciousness itself."

"Ah. Come with me now gentle ostrich. Together we will follow the light."

Then as the sun rose red and golden on the land of Aud, the purple flamingo and
the ostrich flew together over the Savannah toward the dawn.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------