““Abid Abid!” the ule seyde,
“Thu gest al to mid swikelhede.
Alle thine wordes thu bileyst
That hit thinkth soth that thu seyst!”
– The Owl and the Nightingale (13th century)
***
The passenger at 11F was fidgeting in his seat. His palms were sweaty and his hair was stuck to his wet forehead. He darted his eyes all over the place to notice anything amiss.
He was convinced that the pilot of his plane was a chicken.
There were so many hints of it, so much brazen flaunting.
Or perhaps, they were signals for fellow chickens.
Well, he thought, he should have realized so when he first saw that mascot.
After passing through the security check, he went up the escalator to his boarding gate. However, rather than finding the large glass panels overlooking the runway, his vision was met with repulsive yellow fur. It was a mascot of the California Chicken Fry or CCF, an oversized bipedal chicken with yellow plastic fur and a reddish, sponge nose (who has ever heard of a yellow chicken?). It was dancing around the incoming passengers, coaxing them to the CCF stall just behind it, from which delicious fragrance of cooked chicken wafted into the mundane smells of the airport. It enraged him, why should there be a mascot? Well, similar mascots were present there of the Tea Consulate of India, Mechhobabu’s Fishy Delights and Banbhojan Veg – a cup, a fish, and a paneer respectively – all trying to attract customers by waltzing.
But why must there be a chicken? – he had stomped his foot.
Anyways, boarding had started and he was getting late. Thus, he, although infuriated, ignored the chicken mascot and started to walk towards the gate. However, no sooner had he taken a few steps that the chicken jumped through the air – flew, he was sure – and landed in front of him. Then, performing a twirl, it handed him a leaflet. The leaflet was painted in similar bright yellow with tacky red letters – an advertisement for the CCF. However, he could not read the leaflet. It was written in a language known to him and yet the letters seemed to distort right in front of his eyes. From the alphabets, they transformed into empty scrawlings, like the ones left by a chicken after it had walked over mud. Unsurprising – he had clicked his tongue – how can a chicken write human words?
Honestly, he did not care because all his worries were washed away by a wave of seething anger. He found the chicken blocking his way an insolence, and it shoving a leaflet into his palm an insult. Hate bubbled up in all the chambers of his heart; and it is a fortunate thing that airports contain so many security personnels because otherwise, he would have attacked the chicken right there, punching the daylights out of it.
Instead, he crumpled the leaflet into a ball and threw it at the chicken’s face. Then, taking fierce steps, he parted the bird’s company.
However, his suspicion only increased once he stepped inside the airplane.
After disposing his bag in the overhead compartment, he sat down in his seat, closed his eyes, and took in a deep breath. When he opened his eyes though, a shiver ran down his body. His eyes widened and red patches appeared on his face. A fellow passenger – a woman sitting in the seat next to him – noticed his troubled demeanour. She traced the direction of his eyes and soon realized what had so shocked him.
“That?” She informed “Well, the airline decided to use the empty space on the antimacassars to print some advertisements – they posted about it online, don’t you follow their social handles? Gets the company some extra bucks for sure. Last time I flew with them, they were advertising a baby powder. Oh, so this time they have gone with Chicken Empire. All the better, I’m a big fan of Chicken Empire’s finely cut leg-pieces, but not so of their ten-minute delivery system – it causes the delivery-persons to get into accidents, you know? Anyways, their logo – a chicken wearing a top-hat – is so funny isn’t it? Glad they printed it on the antimacassars, cracks me up every time I look at it! But why do you look so tense about it? Are you alright? Hey?”
#
One must not think that the passenger at 11F hated chickens because he was a vegetarian. No such thing. He enjoyed meat just as the woman sitting next to him on the airplane did. Moreover, he was also in the habit of consuming some sort of meat dish every other Sunday. To be honest, he preferred chicken over all other types of meat for how easily and quickly it could be cooked. It also went with every other dish, you could wrap it in chappatis, spread it on bread, mix it with rice or even take it as an accompaniment with both hot and cold drinks. Was there any other food in the world – he used to wonder – that was just one and yet so many at the same time? He simply loved it.
Well, all that was before he met Kamal.
Kamal came to his window on a hot, boiling summer’s afternoon. It was lunchtime and so most of his colleagues were out. He was sitting at his desk, trying to complete the backlog when he suddenly felt a shadow blocking the sunlight. Turning to look at the window, he found Kamal.
Kamal told him about a lot of things. Since Kamal could hover so far above the ground, and appear at any window, Kamal had a bird’s eye-view on many things. From Kamal, the passenger learnt much – about his boss dating one of his colleagues, the night security allowing gamblers to use the empty reception, and how much appraisal was pre-determined for the workers that year. He never questioned Kamal, never realized that a bird’s eye-view was just that – an empty, hollow outlook of the surface with no knowledge of the depths.
It was merely seeing, not understanding.
However, his colleagues did question.
They asked why he – the now passenger at 11F – was spending so much time at the window, cooing to a sparrow. Feeding a bird was a noble thing, but why must he neglect work to do so? Not that the sparrow was anything special, it was just like any other, a tiny bird, sooty with the city’s dust. Yet, it consumed his office hours. He had even got a name for it – ‘Kamal’.
But his colleagues were most creeped out by the fact that he would have long conversations with the sparrow. To talk with animals, birds, insects and even trees is natural to human beings. It is fundamentally human, displaying the humane ability to bind even the non-human in the bonds of care, respect and friendship.
However, there was something strange in the way he talked with the sparrow. He never had the tone of affection but a servile fear in his voice. He spoke to it the same way a child speaks to a school Principal, or a docile brother addresses his much older, strict brother. It was not a relation of friendship between these two creatures of nature but that of a mentor-mentee’s, where the sparrow seemed to have been unquestioningly allowed to become the mentor over its human disciple.
Indeed, for him, the sparrow was no joke. Since Kamal could fly, he considered the bird to be superior to his terrestrial existence; because Kamal could land at any window and see what people on the other side did, he considered the fowl to be knowledgeable; and as it told him about them, he saw the avian as a teacher.
He was the follower, Kamal the leader.
And this leader soon told his follower its ultimate message.
#
The plane was in mid-air.
The passenger at 11F had quieted down somewhat but only in appearance, his mind was abuzz with many intrusions. The woman next to him was asleep, while the other passengers of the plane were in various stages of ennui.
The same could not be said, however, for the cabin crew. The flight attendants looked uncomfortable, worried. They often congregated – in small groups – near the partition at the head of the cabin, and whispered. Eventually, the purser, a middle-aged woman with sharp, confident eyes, came forward and spoke over the PA – “We regret to inform all passengers that there has been a mishap. Due to some logistical misunderstandings and mix-up, the aeroplane has only loaded non-vegetarian food. We know that some passengers want vegetarian food and we’re sorry to have failed those justified demands. In case you’ve pre-booked a veg-meal, you’re now entitled to a free non-veg meal, given you’ve no problem to partake in it. Otherwise, you’ll be fully refunded once the plane lands. We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience.”
A commotion began as disgruntled passengers began to protest. However, it soon faded away as the flight was short and most people had only pre-booked non-veg food. The vegetarian passengers were soon pacified by the promise of refund and the polite but expert handling of the cabin crew.
“But” Asked the vegetarian man sitting behind our passenger “What are you offering in the non-veg meal?”
“We have rice, a side of veggies” One of the flight attendants explained “And of course, chicken.”
“Chicken!” The passenger at 11F shouted so loud that almost everyone turned to look at him.
“Yes…chicken” The attendant replied, her voice a bit nervous.
“But why must it be chicken!?” He demanded irrationally “Why not some other meat? Why not mutton?”
“Most…most people prefer chicken…and then red meat –”
“Why!” He shrieked.
“Is there a problem?” The purser came to aid her colleague.
“I’m asking why are you serving chicken?”
“I just explained it” The purser’s words did not quiver “There has been a most regretful logistical confusion. Actually, the airport –”
“But why chicken? Why? Why?”
“Sir” Her eyebrows crooked “We fly with passengers of all ages and red meat is not always suitable for everyone. In our experience, we’ve found chicken dishes to be loved by all our non-vegetarian travellers. Plus, chicken allows the airline to diversify the menu. After all, chicken can be turned into a number of delectable dishes, don’t you agree?”
He did not. Rather, he clasped his head as if someone had hit him with a hammer.
“I understand” She continued “You must’ve pre-booked a veg meal. Don’t worry, you’ll be fully refunded.”
“I didn’t” He slumped down in his seat “I didn’t book any meal.”
The purser blinked, once “So, what’s exactly the issue?”
“I think” Said the woman sitting next to the passenger, woken up by all the commotion, “He just dislikes chicken. Well, people have their tastes. What can be done?”
#
What the passenger at 11F wanted to have done was, in any case, could not have been done. He wanted to be allowed into the cockpit where he could beat up the pilot, since it was at that point he became fully convinced that the plane was being flown by a chicken. How else was he to explain the food mix-up? Mix-up? My foot! – He told himself – It was the chickens’ conspiracy, a way for them to get a footing in each nook and cranny of the world. He sat fidgeting in his seat with sweaty palms and sticky hair, thinking of all the clues he have had starting with that mascot. He felt sad for the legitimate pilots who lost their jobs for the narcissistic chickens. He believed that the world was too accommodating to chickens – it was what Kamal had told him. He felt an urgent need to speak to Kamal.
Yes, only Kamal could understand him because it was the sparrow that had offered him his first cup of hate. The sparrow’s condemnation of the chickens was threefold. Firstly, it had felt great anger at the chickens’ decision to stay on the ground. Why would – Kamal had demanded – a creature with wings not fly, except in small bursts? Why would it not conquer the sky but make peace with it? It was the most hurtful insult to all winged creatures, including the Pegasus and airplanes!
To this, our passenger had agreed readily. Since he – being a human – could not fly, he decided not to question who did. Indeed, he believed, the conquest of the sky and enslavement of the winds were gala things, no wonder Kamal was so awesome!
Next, Kamal had complained that the chickens were sell-outs. Unlike other creatures, chickens wholly surrendered to humans in return of steady food, shelter and other myriad opportunities. It’s most disgusting – the sparrow had thundered – the way the chickens fall at human feet! For bare essentials, they accept domestication. Such vile are these creatures that they don’t even hesitate to offer their own flesh and own eggs to humans! Evil!
As a chicken-consuming person, the passenger had refused to counter the sparrow. Although, by his own admission, he did not recall an event where a chicken had willingly given itself up for slaughter and was rewarded with opportunities for it. However, he chalked it up to the fallacy of his own memory. His brain could never be as sharp as the sparrow’s – he figured – Kamal was truly the best!
Finally, the sparrow condemned the chickens as heathens. This was indeed the sparrow’s main issue. Kamal and all the other urban birds worshipped the cornices of buildings, for it was there that they ate, roosted and mated.
“Ours is an eternal spirituality” Kamal had assured him “Oh but look at the chickens! They worship the grain! Fools! Just because they survive on it does not mean they should prey to it. Worse! Their customs are now infiltrating our community, inspiring many young sparrows to convert. It’s an attack against our religion! The grains they worship are cursed – have you seen how aggressive chickens are? It’s an effect of their theology. Chickens are the most aggressive creatures in the universe!”
The passenger had been impressed with such spiritual insights. Again, his mind told him that he had never witnessed an attacking chicken. All the chickens he had ever seen – as a child in his village, in TV documentaries, online etc – were afraid and docile.
“Stupid!” He had scolded himself “I think of such things because I lack Kamal’s theological perception. I can’t be like Kamal, he’s truly above and beyond!”
So, just like that, the sparrow’s speeches continued till they spilt over the brim of the passenger’s heart and spread throughout his body. Whereas he once loved to eat chicken, he now hated the very sight of it. He threw out all the frozen chicken from his fridge. If the neighbours cooked chicken and its fragrance tickled his nose, he would get up and close all the windows, making the house boil in the height of an Indian summer. When outside, any mention of chickens – on billboards, posters, advertisements or in conversations of pedestrians – would anger him. Thus, while walking, he would close his eyes and wear headphones with loud music, notwithstanding how many people he collided with or how many times he fell. If chickens appeared on TV or his social feed, he would simply turn off the device. Lastly, he also had a physical altercation with the butcher in the market, the latter’s chickens having, according to him, smiled from the cages.
To say he hated chickens, thus, is to state that the sun was bright.
He hated their wings.
He loathed their feathers.
He despised their clucking.
And so, he decided to do something about it.
He forged the identity of a veterinarian and called up a poultry farm. It was quite easy, after all he worked in the IT department of an animal hospital. The farm he called was a regular customer and hence they were unsuspicious of their trusted hospital offering a free checkup of the birds. With the plan in motion, he purchased from the internet a specific type of perfume that, although filling human skin with jasmine fragrance, was vitriolic to chickens. He carefully packed it in his luggage, booked a flight, arrived at the airport and boarded a plane.
This plane.
“But the chickens knew my plan!” He whispered in a trance “They’re here! But I’ll get to them…I’ll get to them…get to them…”
The woman beside him looked up from her (non-veg) meal and saw the muttering man. She sighed. Returning to her food, she made a mental note to always accept any upgradation she is offered at the check-in from the next time.
#
The plane had landed.
After the initial rush, people had formed a queue and were slowly moving towards the exit. A few of the flight attendants were there, along with the captain, all thanking the passengers for flying with them.
At the end of the queue was the passenger of 11F, having joined the line only after everyone, lost in troubled ideas. As he inched closer to the exit, he looked up vacantly from his thoughts and froze.
A chill ran down his spine.
There, right beside the flight attendants was a chicken!
It was standing nonchalantly, moving its neck around, clucking. On its head was a perfectly sized blue hat with a white star.
With an ear-piercing shriek, the passenger charged at the chicken, driving it into the open cockpit.
Such was the rapidity of the event that the attendants were too stunned to move as the captain – a tall, chubby man – was violently pushed into the cockpit.
Inside, the passenger caught hold of the chicken and shoved it again, making it fall on the control panel, its head hitting the windshield. It clucked out in pain, its feathers scattering all around. It was then that the passenger noticed – there was yet another chicken in the cockpit. It was standing beside the co-pilot’s seat, surprised at his sudden violence. No matter – he decided – he will take them down one-by-one.
The pilot, having hit his head on the glass, slid down to the floor in daze. Yet that was no respite. The passenger fell on him, landing punch after punch, drawing blood out of his cut lips.
Yes, yes – the passenger told himself, garnering all his hatred into his fist – he would teach these chickens a lesson, he would make Kamal proud!
Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain on his side. He winced and turned to find the other chicken pecking at him, trying to rescue its colleague. He promptly responded and kicked the chicken hard, sending it reeling to the floor.
But it was then that it happened.
Two strong female hands appeared from behind and grabbed his waist, they lifted him up in the air momentarily before throwing him to the floor, hard.
Stunned, he lay there in pain. When he eventually recovered, he realized what had happened. The same attendant who had nervously first informed him about serving chicken in the non-veg meal, had performed a sleek martial art move to dislodge him off his victims.
He also saw that the other attendants were now in the cockpit, administering basic medicine to the chickens. This solidarity and unity between them worried the passenger.
For the first time, he was afraid.
Still, he slowly stood up and tried to approach the birds but was unsuccessful. The rest of the women, to protect the attacked chickens, had formed a half-ring by locking their arms together. They were being led by the same attendant who had so swiftly thrown him to the floor, there was no nervousness in her arms but only expertise.
The women started to march forward making the man retreat, and eventually, out of the cockpit. Their main concern was to prevent him from coming close to the pilots, till the airport authorities arrived. The man too realized this intention and so he tried to break the ring by pushing through the attendants.
No effect. The women’s strong arms resisted his brute force.
So, he tried another way. Facing towards the attendants, the man began to rapidly step back. His plan was to create a distance between him and the women, then use that space to take a proper run up and jump over the united arms.
However, here he made the fatal mistake.
In his hurry, he did not realize that he was stepping ever closer to the open exit gate. With his eyes on the attendants, his mind full with Kamal’s thoughts, his heart drowning in hate, and his veins bubbling in spite, how could he have seen that the metal floor of the airplane eventually gave way to stairs?
The passenger fell down the boarding stairs.
His head was cracked open on one of the middle steps while his neck struck one of the lower ones.
He remained lying there, on the dusty runway, twitching in agony as blood pooled around his broken body.
#
PRONTO NEWS
only the fast and exclusive reports
Man Assaults Pilots, Ends up in a Coma
— Staff reporter
Delhi 20XX: A 38 year old man – Pratul Sharma – travelling on a Meghdut Air flight MG 3933, physically assaulted the pilots shortly after landing. The targets of this assault were the 42 year old captain Sohel Parvin and 39 year old co-pilot Manisha Malo. Reportedly, the man rushed at captain Parvin while he was standing near the exit thanking the passengers. He was pushed into the cockpit where Sharma went on to punch him repeatedly. The man also kicked co-pilot Malo when she tried to help. It was then that the flight attendants showed extraordinary heroism. Megha D’Souza – one of the flight attendants and trained martial artist – dislodged the man with a superb manoeuvre. Then, the flight attendants banded together to protect the pilots, forming a human barrier to prevent him from reaching the pilots. According to the crew, the man, unable to move forward and looking for a new way in, kept backing up, unaware that he was already standing too close to the open exit gate. He stumbled and fell down the boarding stairs, injuring his head and neck. The man has now been admitted to a local hospital and is reportedly in coma. The pilots were similarly admitted but were released soon after. They did not sustain any damaging injuries and will be cleared to fly again after a fortnight’s rest – a feat for which they are thankful to the flight attendants’ heroism.
The authorities are investigating the incident and are trying to determine if the motivation of attacking the pilots go beyond just that. Meghdut Airlines have not commented on the incident. It is expected that their flights will continue to operate as per schedule.
About the Author
Swagato Chakraborty is a writer from Kolkata who believes that the world can be changed through literature. His works have previously appeared in Aphelion, Borderless Journal, Schlock and A Thin Slice of Anxiety. His recent story “Mermaids” was published in the anthology Male Pattern Violence in 2026.
