Three crows.

Sometimes, that sweet singing of a koel is not sweet but annoying. So much so that I want three crows to shout in her face.

Not the koel’s fault perhaps. I am here living in the city and dreaming of waking up in a village. I am here and yet not here. Or, the koel is where she is not meant to be.

[Originally written on 17 June, 2019 in the morning in Pune, India]

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