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Those were days when the timid bird
hidden in the foliage urged
'it's time, it's time, wake up'
farmers rushed with their ploughs and grains
their hands busy before the rains
they hardly saw the bird
the bird went on till the seasons end
farmers' song beautifully blend
golden grains bowed in grace
now the trees have gone and fields too
no longer sings the shy cuckoo
siren' shrill wakes us now.
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Author Notes
April is the rice sowing season in my native state.The shy Indian cuckoo sings a special trill which strangely sounds like ''get your seeds ,get your plough". My grand mother's house was adjacent to vast rice fields edged by tall trees . The fields have been flattened and concrete buildings have come up there. The laughing stream of clear water has completely disappeared...
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Sanku
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Sanku
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