A leap of flight
Once upon a time, there was an owl. Strange as it may sound, he was afraid of darkness. That’s like suggesting a cat being afraid of milk or humans being afraid of climate change. As soon as the sun got drunk on the sea and went home, he began to feel sad and doubtful. While all his fellowowls looked forward to the blackening of the sky, he prayed the day never ended. But then, the nature has stringent laws to follow and he was left with only his weary mind. All the depressing thoughts inside his tiny head echoed so loudly that he was worried his folks might hear it and thus expose his cowardice. Nobody wants to reveal too much of themselves, particularly in the jungle kingdom. You’ve got to toe the line. Or else, you are out of the parliament. There is no middle ground.
He understood where he stood in this battle with himself. Because as he was growing older, his paranoia was getting older than him. Under the daylight, he could barely observe anything so he kept his round eyelids down and meditated. Since he couldn’t see much, he didn’t have much to be afraid of either. Whereas during nighttime, his vision improved by tenfold and all the knowledge that it brought with it made him feel smaller and lonelier. It’d be an understatement to say that he was in a psychological soup. One midnight, he found himself chasing a rat but during the process, the realization that it was dark and yet he could somehow see and maybe others could see him too clouded his brain to inexplicable levels. This paradox was too much for him to handle. End result: the rat escaped to live another day.
Over the following days, he realized he can’t afford to let his fear starve him to death. So, he decided to channelize his inner yoda and gather at least 7 grams of courage. When you’re scared of things you can’t pour into words, you tend to be lost in your own labyrinth. Something he acknowledged thanks to the ballooning hunger inside him. For how long can he stay stranded on his branch pretending to be Buddha who has attained enlightenment on the tree? In the end, the night of truth arrived. Our hero fledged his vast wings and took a giant flight of faith. He hadn’t eaten in nights and could already spot various dining options — a mouse conspiring here, a fat gecko skirting there, is that a sparrow? — but he chose to fight a greater war. He was inherently afraid of the gloomy sky and everything it represented, right? So, instead of peering down at the ground, he looked up at his nemesis and kept flying. He flew higher than any of his peers had ever flown before. He wanted to bring an end to his trepidation. Everybody gets tired of being scared all the time. And he knew it better than anybody else.
It was a keenly dark night and there weren’t any stars to soothe his endeavour. Nobody to admire, nobody to be admired by. He kept flapping his wings as long as he could, raising himself further. After a long struggle, he finally reached a point of no return. There was nothing left in him, not even an ounce of effort. Completely drained, he smiled. He had not only confronted his fear but also defeated it. The gravity of the situation would have been lost on him had he not known what he was up to. With no witnesses around, his bravado died along with him.
Until now, that is.
