Her room was a large window with a small door. She would sense when she needed to be in her room, and would come and sit without complaint. Infact she loved to choose her solitude. She was free, she was happy and never interfered. Some days when the sun was bright she would go out for a fly in the beautiful blue sky, resting on the lush green trees, meeting friends who spoke her language. And when it was time she would come back home, rejuvenated. No questions asked.
Life was perfect with few glitches.
And then the day came when she was given to the aunt. She, who had an opinion on everything birds should or should not do. She, who smiled at her and told her to be proper, teaching her what proper was. She closed her cage at proper times, lest she flew out. She wanted to fly even more then and meet her friends. The aunt fed her well, her favourite worms, but she did not like them and felt gloomy. The aunt would complain often, of the feeble singing, after all she was a bird, she was supposed to eat and sing.
What she did not know, she was a special bird. She could only sing when she was free . Nothing else mattered to her.