The small, dimly lit house Raju shared with his mother, Rani, smelled of stale cumin and forgotten dreams. The peeling wallpaper in the cramped hallway curled at the edges like a sneer, and the floorboards groaned under his lanky frame as he shuffled toward Rani’s bedroom. His shoulders slumped with the weight of another aimless day—twenty-something and still mooching off his ma, no job, no prospects, just a gnawing loneliness that clung to him like damp cloth. He scratched the back of his neck, muttering to himself about dinner, and pushed open the door without a knock.
“Ma, what’s for—oh, bloody hell!” Raju froze mid-step, his jaw dropping to the creaky floorboards. The sight before him was a fever dream, a hallucination born of too much cheap chai. There, perched on the edge of her old, sagging bed, was… a bird. Not just any bird, but a massive, human-sized cockatoo with shimmering white feathers tipped in gold, a sharp, curved beak, and eyes that burned with a familiar, no-nonsense glare. The bird—Ma?—flapped its enormous wings with a gust that sent loose papers and dust swirling through the cluttered room, and Raju stumbled back, nearly tripping over a pile of mismatched socks.
“Raju, you useless lump of curry, have I taught you nothing?” The voice was unmistakable, sharp as a butcher’s cleaver and dripping with exasperation. It was Rani, alright, even if she now had a beak and a crest of feathers that quivered with irritation. “Barging in like you own the place! What if I’d been preening, huh? You want an eyeful of your mother’s tail feathers?”
Raju blinked, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping on dry land. “Ma… Ma, what the—how—why are you a bloody bird?!” His voice cracked on the last word, and he gestured wildly at her transformed state, his skinny arms flailing. “Did you eat something weird? Did someone curse you? Is this… is this permanent?”
Rani tilted her head, her piercing gaze pinning him in place. Even as a cockatoo, she radiated authority, her feathers puffing up as if to make herself even more imposing. “Oh, stop your stammering, boy. I’m still your mother, feathers or not. And don’t you dare start with your nonsense questions. What happened, happened. Maybe I prayed too hard for wings to fly out of this miserable dump of a life. Or maybe I just got tired of looking at your sorry face every day.” She let out a sharp, cawing laugh that made Raju flinch. “Now, close that gawking mouth of yours before I peck it shut.”
Raju swallowed hard, his eyes darting from her shimmering plumage to the way her talons clicked against the bedframe. She was… striking. Unnervingly so. The way her feathers caught the dim light, the confident tilt of her head—it stirred something in him he didn’t dare name. He shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck again. “Ma, this is insane. You can’t just— I mean, what do we do? Call a doctor? A vet? A bloody exorcist?”
Rani flapped her wings again, sending a small whirlwind of dust into Raju’s face. He coughed, waving a hand to clear the air, while she fixed him with a look that could’ve curdled milk. “A vet, he says. Do I look like a stray mutt to you? I’m fine, Raju. Better than fine, actually. Haven’t felt this alive in years. Now, stop standing there like a lost goat and make yourself useful for once. Fetch me some crackers. My beak’s itching for something to crunch.”
“Crackers?” Raju echoed, still reeling. “Like… actual crackers? Not some weird metaphor for money or—?”
“What do you think, genius?” Rani snapped, her crest flaring. “Yes, actual crackers. Salted ones, if we’ve got any in this sorry excuse for a kitchen. And hurry up, unless you want me to start pecking at your skinny little arms for entertainment.”
Raju hesitated, his gaze lingering on her too long. There was something about the way she held herself now, even in this bizarre form—commanding, untouchable, almost… regal. Her eyes, still so human despite the avian frame, bore into him, and he felt a heat creep up his neck that had nothing to do with embarrassment. “Right, uh, crackers. Got it. I’ll just… go do that.” He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him cold.
“And Raju,” Rani called, her tone dropping to a low, teasing lilt that sent an unwelcome shiver down his spine. “Don’t think this changes anything. I’m still the boss around here, bird or not. So don’t go getting any funny ideas about slacking off more than you already do. I’ve got eyes like a hawk now—literally. I’ll be watching you, boy.”
He glanced back over his shoulder, catching the glint in her gaze, the way her feathers seemed to shimmer with unspoken challenge. “Yeah, Ma. I… I get it. No funny ideas.” But as he shuffled out of the room, his heart thumped unevenly in his chest. Funny ideas were the least of his worries. There was something else brewing beneath the surface, something dangerous and unspoken, in the way her presence—bird or not—filled the room like a storm waiting to break.
The kitchen was just down the hall, but it felt like a mile as Raju tried to shake off the image of his mother’s transformed state. Her voice echoed in his head, sharp and unrelenting, as he rummaged through the sparse pantry for crackers. Their lives had always been a quiet kind of miserable—two lost souls rattling around in a house too small for their frustrations. But now, with Rani’s sudden metamorphosis, the air felt charged, electric with something he couldn’t quite grasp. And as he clutched a dusty packet of salted crackers, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was the start of something far stranger—and far more dangerous—than he’d ever imagined.
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