In front of our house
There is a guava tree.
In the brunches of it,
There lives a bird colony.
I can hear the birds talking
Sometimes shouting at their children,
Sometimes loving them
Sometimes taking care of them
Sometimes asking their neighbors
About there whereabouts
Sometimes they sit for teaching their children
Sometimes they teach them how to sing
I try to intercept their chirping.
The more I hear them talking,
The more my curiosity arises
To know about their lives.
I remember Salim Ali,
About whom I read in my childhood.
I was awestruck to learn about him
My English teacher told us his story in an interesting way
I still remember what I read in the pages of the book
But now only I had an experience
Of what I learned that day.
Whenever I hear the birds colony chirping,
“Kichir michir kichir michir kichir michir”,

as they sing,
I remember Salim Ali.
The man who made us lost

in the world of birds

as I came to know

they too have their own language.

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(This post is part of the series ‘Solace in the Mundaneness’ where I try to tell stories of the everyday things that capture a special place in my heart and they make me feel privileged to live a simple and ordinary life with contentment and peace. This post is also part of Blogchatter A to Z.)