I’ve always loved animals. Even when I was a little girl, I’d beg my parents to get me a dog, but we couldn’t take care of one, so I had to think of some other animal I could keep as a pet.

I had a number of pets growing up, such as a goldfish or rabbits but they would come and go within a month. None of them stayed long enough to have a place in my heart. None of them except Chicky. I was 12 when we got her. She was a bird, a cockatiel with a little mohawk of feathers and was pale yellow all over. She had 2 orange dots on her cheeks and pretty eyes. She came in a pair with another cockatiel, Ricky. They both were beautiful and I took great care of them. But after a month or so, I noticed that something wasn’t right with Ricky. He was tired and lethargic and wouldn’t eat. We took him to the vet, and she prescribed some vitamins for him. But unfortunately, Ricky passed away that night. I was heartbroken. Ricky was the most gentle bird I’d seen and it felt cruel for such a kind soul to be whisked away from me. Chicky, on the other hand, was a feisty bird. She would bite me and glare at me, which made me wish she was the one who had died, and not Ricky.

Who would have known that I’d take back those words in a few months?

For the first few days I treated Chicky like a murderer. I blamed her for Ricky’s death. But slowly I started accepting her as my bird.

I would hear her chirp and dance during the day, then huddle in a corner at night. I would treat her with bits of broccoli, coriander and baby corn. She became the joy of my life.

Last year, in September, during the term exams, we had to take Chicky to the vet. Nothing to worry about, we just had to get her nails trimmed. It was nothing new for us, we had taken her a few times before. This time, however, I couldn’t come as I has to study for my exam. So my parents took her.

They returned after an hour. I rushed to see Chicky. But instead I was greeted by an empty cage. Shocked, I asked Abba where she was. He said she had flown away.

I felt as if the air had been knocked out of my lungs. I couldn’t believe it. Surely Chicky wouldn’t abandon me? I cried and cried for her, wishing that she would somehow find her way back home to me. Mama saw my state and came to me. She said that Chicky hadn’t flown away.

My hopes raised for a second, only to be crushed by her next words. Chicky was dead.

She’d been chocked by the vet while he was cutting her nails. Grief, anger and sorrow took over me. I was kicking, screaming and sobbing. Nothing could console me.

That day, I realized 2 things which changed my world.

One, that life is unfair. There are no rules in life. Anything that can happen, will happen. There’s no use of moping around. Humans aren’t flawless. The only thing we can do about such injustices is to fight for what we believe in and remember those left behind.

And two, that death is inevitable. Every creature will die eventually. Which is why it’s important to live life to the fullest and grab every opportunity that comes. We only have 1 life to make a difference. Make it count.

And I did exactly that.

A few days after her death, I wrote some poems about Chicky, which made me pursue writing as a hobby. I started to love penning down my thoughts, my imagination. And it all paid off when my short story got published in a book by Scholastic.

Chicky inspired me, directly or indirectly, to go after the things that I love and care about. She helped me find my passion. She made me value the time I have on Earth.

And I thank her for that.

– Maleika Hussain