A Song from my Childhood.

The dawn greets me with the song of
the sparrows. When I look out of the
window I see three of them -
sparrows dancing on the sill, singing
 all the while, singing as if no one’s
listening, as if the world were a
singing festival, singing to their last
breath, singing as if this dawn
were the last song of the
dying bird, as if, as if I were
the last witness to the
songs of a forgotten city-

To
Calcutta (and its
chorui-pakhi).