Wednesday, 7 March 2012

Story of the sparrows and the scattered grains.........

This is a story simple and plain; it’s about the sparrows and the grains.
When I was kid, I watched on terrace birds of all kinds.
When I would rub my sleepy eyes I saw them greeting early in the morning.
And on the bench when I sat in sun, they chirped around me in a turn.
Black, brown, green and grey…well daadi! Oh naani! What are their names?
This is parrot, this one is crow and this is sparrow ah! look that is pigeon, 
Hmm! I liked that green but it remained silent; I hate that black it yells and screams.
That brown one has dirty yellow beak and grey one is always out of reach
Hmm this sparrow is auspicious one; she eats rice grains my grandma spreads.
Whole day she remains on my courtyard and flutters here there all around.
She not only chirps but her wings make a sound as she flew close to my ears
And so days went by and so many the years……………………….
I grew big, smart and busy; I have my own life with foes and friends;
I have to deal with them on my own terms.
I hear rock music and metallic bells;
vehicle horns and all the crazy sounds.
The ringtone of my mobile mimicked all the birds on globe and in my ears is the latest i-pod.
As so many years I never gave a thought; the journey was long, but it took me back.
To the old paths I had now retraced; I see no grains scattered on my floor, naani in heaven and daadi so old...
And one day the moment was just perfect, when I was sitting on the same bench, with the memory in flash,
Back in the moment, I found  no sparrows; 
I felt no chirping and no wings  resonance.
I felt as if I have lost someone.
Where she’s gone? Why now I care the most..?

One morning I came out rubbing my eyes, I scattered some grains and waited so long.
All birds came one by one, the green, brown, the white, the black.. but..I could think now what I have lost…
But every day I kept the water and grain; shooed all birds out of vain.
Hey! This not yours I am keeping it for her, don’t take what is not yours. Go away and tell her to come.
They crooked and screamed and cursed me a lot but I was living on some hope.
Then one day I said she might not come as I never cared and took her for granted.
And still I kept the water and grains, I let every bird have it and never shooed again
I watched them daily the elegant flocks; their melodious songs and fluttering feathers
I had the hope still and also reality accepted and one fine morning I came out rubbing my eyes and I was amazed for what was in my sight.
Two tiny sparrows were hopping on the terrace walls; I could not control my feelings of enthrall!
I was so happy. I sat on the bench in sun; the sparrows were chirping, fluttering in the golden rain.
Feeding on the scattered grains!

(When I wrote this poem, my daadi was alive, but now she too joined my naani.... love you both!)
editted on 18 july, 2016

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