kuuuu....kuuuu
Asif slid his textbook away and carefully crept to the window. The mango tree was lush green, and it was difficult to spot the source of the sound. Abbu saw him and asked, "What are you doing beta" ?
"Shhhhhh..... Abbu. I want to see that bird", Asif eyes still fixed on the mango tree.
Abbu said, "Its a Cuckoo, difficult to spot, the song echoes all around".
Finally Asif was able to spot it. A small black bird, the song seemed to flow effortlessly. He wondered how such a small bird could sing so loudly and beautifully.
Watching the Cuckoo sing became a daily affair for him. The pleasant song seemed to bring coolness to the hot dry mornings of march and april. As the months rolled by, dark clouds came in from the south. The Cuckoo's song grew louder and louder....and one day it stopped. Asif waited for long hours by the window to hear the song, but it seemed to have disappeared. Finally Asif concluded that the Cuckoo was dead!
As time went by the last of the mangoes fell of the tree, the leaves turned brown in winter. On the other side of the window, Asif returned to his usual life, forgetting everything about the Cuckoo. And as the time rolled by, one february morning he woke up with the same sweet song. He thought he was dreaming, but he crept to the window and saw the tiny black Cuckoo..... kuuuu......kuuuu
"Strange, I thought it was dead", Asif said. Abbu hugged him and said, "It was not dead. The Cuckoo sings only during the spring, once the season goes away, it waits for the next season to come".
Asif slid his textbook away and carefully crept to the window. The mango tree was lush green, and it was difficult to spot the source of the sound. Abbu saw him and asked, "What are you doing beta" ?
"Shhhhhh..... Abbu. I want to see that bird", Asif eyes still fixed on the mango tree.
Abbu said, "Its a Cuckoo, difficult to spot, the song echoes all around".
Finally Asif was able to spot it. A small black bird, the song seemed to flow effortlessly. He wondered how such a small bird could sing so loudly and beautifully.
Watching the Cuckoo sing became a daily affair for him. The pleasant song seemed to bring coolness to the hot dry mornings of march and april. As the months rolled by, dark clouds came in from the south. The Cuckoo's song grew louder and louder....and one day it stopped. Asif waited for long hours by the window to hear the song, but it seemed to have disappeared. Finally Asif concluded that the Cuckoo was dead!
As time went by the last of the mangoes fell of the tree, the leaves turned brown in winter. On the other side of the window, Asif returned to his usual life, forgetting everything about the Cuckoo. And as the time rolled by, one february morning he woke up with the same sweet song. He thought he was dreaming, but he crept to the window and saw the tiny black Cuckoo..... kuuuu......kuuuu
"Strange, I thought it was dead", Asif said. Abbu hugged him and said, "It was not dead. The Cuckoo sings only during the spring, once the season goes away, it waits for the next season to come".
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