Monthly Archives: June 2013

There was a Flower and a Flower


The poet sang,”ek ta gul aur ek ti bulbul” (there was a flower and a nightingale). “Don’t be silly”, my rational mind snapped back at the poet. “A flower and a bird can’t have sex!”.

I heart the song.

ek ta gul aur ek ti bulbul

Once there was a nightingale and a flower that lived in a garden
This story is a true one my grandfather used to tell me

The nightingale sang in such a manner
Such a manner
How did she sing?
The nightingale sang…
Exactly the way you sound when you talk
The flower felt so shy
So shy…
How shy?
The flower felt shy
The way I feel when I get nervous
The nightingale didn’t know
Why the flower felt so shy
How could she know that her song
Made the flower’s heart race
Matters of the heart are not spoken, they stay hidden in the heart

But eventually matters of the heart
Can only be hidden for so long
These are those buds
That blooms into thorns that prick
One day the nightingale realised
That the flower was crazy about her
Tell me if you like this story
I will continue
Keep talking, don’t stop now
Their love for each other made them helpless
Their love story became famous in the garden they lived in
We will live together, die together, is what they kept repeating

What happened next?
Now listen to what happened next…
One day a hunter came into the garden
And snatched the nightingale away
The mad flower wilted
That’s what the poets say
They sang about the agony of seperation
The nights don’t pass without my beloved
This was the intoxicating season of spring
But only tears flowed from their eyes

Voices can be heard
From the twinkling stars
When there’s so much love
How can it be stopped by any wall
One day the cries of flower and nightingale
Bounced against the cage
The cage broke, the prisoner was free
The hunter cursed
Not the whole world or heavens could stop those two
The nightingale came back to the garden to sing for her beloved flower
What a beautiful story!
Always remember this story even when you die
If you ever fall in love with someone, love like the flower and the nightingale did

When It Rains



When it starts to rain I open balcony window and curl up on the sofa with a book.

Mamdhu likes the black and white striped dress I wear around the house. I promised him that I will wear it only for him.