Two birds flew together:
Come rain or shine, summer or winter,
Flying through the dawns and the dusks,
Traversing diverse worlds and paths―
A storm chanced upon them:
Dark clouds and unruly winds,
Howling winds and the fury of thunder,
A blinding flash―and all darkness befell.
One bird loses his way from her,
The other flies hopelessly in search.
Ages past, one bird has settled
Upon a good tree―a good dwelling.
It is a calm place: a home-to-be,
And therein she made her peace.
But fate brings back the lost―
Broken legs, he can never rest now.
Momentarily, they sit together,
And renew their old songs,
Before one bird must fly again.
One has found a home;
The other has forsaken a home.
But like the returning seasons,
He promises to visit again―
And so they would sit, and in their songs
They would fly together freely once more.
Partaking of the joys and the griefs of love,
Traversing diverse worlds and paths―
Yet forever at the cross-roads―
For S. R.―
Bardhaman, amidst the ruin of 2017.