By Christina K Sangma
Every morning at exactly seven o’clock, Mr. Bhaskar shuffled down to Maple Lake with his walking stick, his flat cap, and a bag of breadcrumbs. He was eighty-two, slightly grumpy, and firmly believed that “ducks these days had no manners.”
That belief changed the day he met Perry.
Perry was no ordinary duck. For one thing, she had a bright pink ribbon tied around her neck, and for another, she had a habit of following people home, specifically Mr. Bhaskar.
The first time she did it, Mr. Bhaskar turned around on his porch and nearly dropped his stick.
Oh, for heaven’s sake! Go back to your lake, he barked. Perry quacked loudly, flapped her wings, and waddled right into his house as if she owned the place. From that day on, Perry became a permanent guest. She would sit beside Mr. Bhaskar as he read the newspaper, quack during his favourite radio shows, and even nap on his slippers.
At first, he grumbled.
You’re just a feathery nuisance.
But then, one lonely evening, when Perry rested her head on his knee, he smiled for the first time in years.
Soon they developed a routine. Every morning, they went to the lake together, Mr. Bhaskar tossing breadcrumbs, Perry chasing away the greedy gulls. In the afternoons, she sat on his workbench while he carved little wooden ducks, pretending to supervise. And in the evenings, they watched TV together. Perry liked cooking shows best.
One day, a group of children passing by saw them sitting on a park bench, an old man feeding a duck who wore a ribbon and occasionally pecked at his pocket for extra treats.
“Hey, Mister!” one boy shouted, “Is that your pet?”
Mr. Bhaskar puffed out his chest. “That’s not a pet, young man. That’s Perry, my business partner.”
Business partner? the boy giggled.
Indeed! She’s the CEO of Quack Industries. We specialize in bread recycling.
The children laughed so hard that Perry quacked proudly, as if agreeing with her promotion.
Word spread around the town about the old man and his duck. Tourists started coming to Maple Lake just to see them. Someone even made an Instagram page and to everyone’s surprise, it went viral.
When Mr. Bhaskar’s granddaughter showed him the page, he was astonished. Good heavens, Perry, we’re famous! Maybe we should charge for autographs!
Perry quacked twice, which he took as a yes.
Life was suddenly full again. Mr. Bhaskar, who once spent his days in silence, now had a feathery best friend, a fan club, and an endless reason to laugh.
One morning, as he sat by the lake, he said softly, “you know, Perry, people think it’s odd, an old man and a duck being friends. Perry tilted her head and gave a soft quack.” Mr. Bhaskar chuckled. “But maybe odd is what makes life fun.”
The duck nuzzled his arm in agreement. And from then on, every morning at seven, Maple Lake echoed with two sounds: the steady tap of an old man’s stick, and the happy quacks of a duck who’d found her favourite human.
