Dada 35

He got married rather late in life. When he was young, he wanted to work in the theatre, when his dad was in the army and the British were in Malaya and the white Rajahs ruled all this part of Borneo  before the war; Srino acted in vaudeville to entertain the troops.

But he ended up working on the railways over on the peninsula  and he had no regrets because it was a good job that his dad had helped him with and he now had a small pension. He hadn’t been happy with his wife but in the end he`d got used to being with her.

When she died, he`d felt very lonely. So he asked one of his workmates what was the best thing for company and he had brought him a bird in a cage and had got him when he was still very young and fresh from the jungle. He had to feed it with a baby`s bottle. But since birds even parrots can live to an old age and they mature very quickly they`d ended up growing old together.

“He was bad tempered bastard”: old Srino told me. “From time to time, we`d have it out. But he was a good bird all the same.” I said he was a good breed and Srino seemed pleased.

“And you don`t even know him before he got sick” he added. “His plumage used to be the most beautiful thing about him. It was like a horse chestnut tree in flower”. Every morning and every evening after the bird got skin disease, Srino rubbed him with gentle oil under his wings .  But Srino said his real disease was old age, and you can`t cure old age. I yawned just then and the old man said he`d go.