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