Rapunzel 2.0

Where is that crazy girl who calls me Rapunzel? I am no Rapunzel. What does it even mean? If someone insists on giving a name, I would say “Henry” may be more suitable to my age and gender. But these human kids have a knack of giving weird names. One of them even called me “Gandalf, the gray”. But I guess it is still better than “Rapunzel” any day.

Hmmm, coming back to Rapunzel, where is that weird girl who used to try talking to me every day, complaining that I wasn’t responding and being rude. I would be sitting quietly on my favourite branch while soaking up the sun on those cold mornings, listening to the loud, raucous, erratic music created by those huge things that humans travel in, when she would open the window of her third floor room and begin chatting up like I’m an old friend. She would ask about my day, my nest and how the kids were doing, as if I would have time to sit there if I still had kids. They have flown away to find their own life–every single one of them since I and Mrs. got together. Now that she too has moved on to the higher skies, I would rather spend my time sitting quietly remembering her rather than play with a pesky kid.

But it still doesn’t make sense. She was always here, playing in this room and one fine day she was gone. I haven’t seen her in so many days. It left me uneasy. May be she too has flown away. But that couldn’t be possible. Sometimes, I hear her voice from lower floors but she doesn’t come to our window anymore.

Is she being kept a captive? Not sure why I felt the compulsion but I had to find out so I tried sneaking into the house–thrice. But I was always thwarted by that big human who said something like “Fan” and closed windows on my face. When I enquired with her about the little girl through the window glass, all she did was look at me like she couldn’t understand me and say, “Rapunzel, Betu’s gone school”. Moron! Fine, I’ll just sit here and enjoy my music.

Humph! May be I will turn my back to the window. That should help the urge to look out for the little inconsiderate brat, worrying an old bird like me because she is too busy to come visit!

“Oh Rapunzel! You were right mom, Rapunzel is waiting for me.”

“For the last time, my name is NOT Rapunzel!”

“Mom, I think Rapunzel is talking to me again!”

What the ****?! Humph! I’ll just ignore her as always. Now where is that music when I need it?