A story that contains a very deep message — Must Read

Once upon a time, there was a man who had a parrot as his pet. He loved and cared for his parrot very much.

But sometimes, love and affection can turn into possessiveness.

Out of his love for the parrot, or perhaps because of his fear of losing it, one day, he cut its feathers. He thought that now the parrot would never leave him or fly away. It would always stay with him.

He failed to understand that if he gave the parrot freedom, love, and care, it might never want to leave him. But his fear took over his affection.

He was so concerned about keeping the parrot close to himself that he completely forgot one thing: the parrot’s nature was to fly high in the sky.

After that, the parrot started feeling miserable. How could it be happy when the very thing that gave it freedom had been taken away?

It wanted to fly. It wanted to touch the sky. It would sit by the window, looking at the beautiful sky, wishing it could fly high again.

Sometimes, it even tried to spread its wings and fly, but it couldn’t. Its feathers had already been cut by the very person who loved it the most.

One day, a few people visited the man’s house. He proudly introduced his parrot to them and said, “This parrot loves me so much. It can never leave me. It cannot live without me. It always stays by my side.”

He kept talking about how much the parrot loved him and how well he cared for it.

But he never told them the real reason why the parrot couldn’t leave him. He never mentioned that he had cut its feathers.

He was unable to understand the parrot’s side of the story. He was unable to understand its emotions, its desires, and its longing for freedom.

He believed that the parrot loved him so much that it could never live without him.

But that wasn’t love. It was helplessness.

One day, when the parrot was moving around the house all alone, a cat entered and attacked it. The cat killed the parrot.

When the man returned and saw his beloved parrot dead, he might have thought that the cat was responsible for its death.

And perhaps you are also thinking the same thing. The cat killed the parrot, so the cat must be responsible.

But no!

The real reason behind the parrot’s death was not just the cat. It was the man who had taken away its ability to fly.

If the parrot had its feathers, it could have flown away and saved itself. But it couldn’t. It had already lost its strength.

वो अपनी ताकत खो चुका था। वो उड़ नहीं सकता था।

And you know what? The same thing happens in our lives, too.

Sometimes, out of love and affection, we cut the wings of our own people. We take away their freedom, their choices, and their ability to make decisions.

We think, “This person will never leave me. They have no one except me. They don’t even know how to live without me.”

But have we ever tried to understand the other person’s side?

Have we ever thought about whether they genuinely want to stay with us or whether we have made them so dependent on us that they have no other choice?

We manipulate them, restrict them, and stop them from doing things their own way. We never allow them to explore life or make their own decisions.

And then, we proudly say that they cannot live without us.

But how can we call it love when we have taken away someone’s freedom?

I believe this happens in many relationships, sometimes even without us realising it.

So, let them fly. Let them explore. Let them make their own decisions. Let them live their lives.

They might make mistakes; they might fall, and they might even choose a different path. But that doesn’t mean we should take away their freedom.

Don’t cut their feathers. They are their strength.

And remember, this story isn’t just about a man and his parrot. It reflects something that many of us experience in our own lives.

Sometimes, the people who claim to love us the most are the ones who unknowingly take away the very freedom that makes us who we are.

That’s why I say sometimes our too much love and care become poison for someone.

Love them, care for them, not at the cost of their freedom or their strength. Don’t make them too dependent on you.

Hope this story will help you understand a very important part of life.

Stay tuned for more stories like this.

Your Cutiee Patotiee,

— Monika Mahadev🌸

Don’t Cut Their Feathers! was originally published in Clear & Kind on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

I’m Not Particularly Good at Pretending

I’m not particularly good at pretending. Never have been, I guess.

I don’t know how to act excited about a conversation I don’t want to have, maintain a friendship simply because it’s been around for a while, or manufacture affection just because it’s socially expected.

I enjoy my space, my solitude, and the freedom to be myself. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want people in my life. I do. I just want genuine connections. The kind where I’m wanted rather than merely accommodated, and where I don’t have to become someone else to be accepted.

Perhaps that’s a little too much to ask. But if there’s one thing about myself I don’t want to change, it’s my refusal to fake a connection just to have one.

I’m Not Everyone’s Person, and That’s Okay

“Chill a little.”

I’ve heard variations of this more than once. Apparently, I take boundaries a little too seriously. Perhaps I do. But I’ve never understood the appeal of pretending to like someone simply because it’s considered the socially acceptable thing to do.

I like my space. I don’t trust people easily. Not many people, not quickly, not really. I’ve read too many real-life horror stories for that, I guess.

I’m cordial with people. I can be respectful, helpful, and pleasant. But there’s a difference between being polite to someone and wanting them in your life. I don’t want to say things just for the sake of saying them, out of formality, or because everyone else is doing it.

When I do say something, I mean it. If I appreciate you, I mean it. If I compliment you, I mean it. If I ask how you’re doing, it’s because I actually want to know.

I’d rather say less and mean every word than say everything and mean none of it.

I don’t feel the need to maintain conversations or friendships just to avoid being labelled antisocial. I’ve been called that. Perhaps difficult, too. My response has usually been some version of, “I don’t care. That’s me.”

Of course, I understand the difference between honesty and rudeness. I know there’s a time and place for everything. But I don’t want to sacrifice my values, beliefs, or well-being just to make myself easier to accommodate.

And I’m not some rigid tree that refuses to bend. I can change my opinion about someone after one conversation or ten interactions. I can be wrong, reconsider, and see reason.

I just don’t want to pretend.

I’d Rather Be Chosen Than Simply Included

There’s another thing about friendships that matters to me.

If someone genuinely wants me in their life, I’d like them to make an effort. Not just when it’s convenient, because I’m available, or because I’m already around.

I want to be chosen because someone genuinely wants me there.

And not just some carefully edited version of me who’s always pleasant, agreeable, available, and in a good mood. I’m moody. I can be sweet, curious, and ridiculously talkative. I can also be cold, difficult, and brooding. I’d like the people who choose to have me in their lives to know those sides of me, too.

I don’t want to feel like I have to be a particular version of myself to keep someone’s affection. I’d rather be appreciated as a whole person, imperfections and all.

I once read something along the lines of having one or two friends for fifty years being worth more than making fifty friends in a single year. I don’t remember where I read it, but it stuck with me.

I’ve never been interested in collecting people. I’d rather have a handful of genuine connections than a long list of names I barely know. A few people who show up and genuinely want to stay mean much more to me.

I’m Curious, Just Selectively

And this isn’t limited to friendships, either.

If I disagree with your point of view, chances are I’ll poke at it. I’ll ask why, what you meant, and probably follow up with more questions than you expected.

I like understanding how people think and what makes them arrive at a particular conclusion. A seemingly insignificant statement can turn into a surprisingly long conversation. One question leads to another, and before I know it, we’re discussing something neither of us originally intended to.

I used to do this much more freely. These days, I’m a little more selective about where I spend that energy. Sometimes it’s because I genuinely like the person. Sometimes I’m simply curious. And sometimes, well, I just want to waste some time.

I don’t pretend to agree just to keep a conversation pleasant. I enjoy a good disagreement, having my opinions challenged, and even discovering that I’m wrong. In fact, that’s part of the fun.

I’d rather have an honest disagreement than a conversation in which neither person really means what they’re saying.

I Can Be Lonely, Too

For someone who enjoys being alone, I do feel lonely sometimes.

I love my own company and don’t constantly need someone to talk to. I also have quite a few friends on X, and honestly, they’re nice. I’ve had some lovely conversations with people I genuinely enjoy interacting with. I’m grateful for that.

But online friendships and real-life connections aren’t quite the same to me. I value the people who are actually present in my everyday life, who show up and make an effort.

Still, loneliness has its moments.

Sometimes I break almost all my rules. I might talk to a complete stranger for hours, be unexpectedly sweet, ask a hundred questions, or become much more talkative than anyone who knows my usual self would expect.

Perhaps that’s the confusing part about me. I can enjoy my distance and still want company. I can be reserved and still be warm. I can love a good conversation without wanting every conversation to become a friendship.

But there’s one thing I don’t want to compromise on — I don’t want to pretend we’re closer than we are.

I don’t think every person I meet has to become my friend. Maybe I’m too guarded. Maybe I miss out on people I could have known better. Maybe I’m a little difficult to approach.

I can live with that.

I want the people in my life to be there because they genuinely want me there. I want to be known and cherished without having to perform a version of myself that’s easier to love.

So, yes, I like boundaries. I like my space. And if that makes me a little antisocial, I suppose that’s one thing I’m not particularly interested in fixing.

And I Think I’ll Keep It That Way

I’m sure I’ll change in many ways as I grow. I’ll meet people who challenge me, surprise me, and make me reconsider what I thought I knew.

But I hope I never lose the sincerity with which I connect with people.

I don’t need to be everyone’s person. I’d rather have a few connections I can trust, words I actually mean, and the freedom to be myself, even when that isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.

Maybe I’m not the easiest person to know. But I don’t think every part of me needs improving.

Some things aren’t flaws just because they don’t fit everyone’s expectations. And this is one of mine.

Thank You

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for giving my words a little of your time.

I hope something here felt familiar, made you pause, or reminded you that you don’t have to change every part of yourself to be more acceptable to others.

And perhaps there’s something about yourself you’ve been trying too hard to fix that deserves a little more understanding.

Thank you for reading. 😊

And a special thank you to 🌸Preeti Pathak🌸and Manmeet Singh Bhatia for this challenge prompt. It gave me an opportunity for some much-needed self-introspection and reflection.

I have a huge list of things I’d like to change about myself, but this was the first time I stopped to think about something I didn’t want to change.

Written for:-

It’s time to put that self-improvement checklist aside. Pick that one trait, habit, or imperfection you’re not willing to surrender. Own your quirks. Embrace your imperfections. And give us a story that says, “This is me, and I’m not changing!” Let’s hear your unapologetic voice! Find the prompt here👇🏻

Unapologetically Me — A Writing Challenge

Unapologetically Me — A Writing Challenge was originally published in Clear & Kind on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.