Many seasons passed on an iron perch Few days of freedom on branches of birch. Few days of eating what I love the most Few

The nightingale hid high in the mango tree. Shy and elusive her color blended her well in the thick foliage. Her melodious Raag Malhaar reverbated

आवाज़ ही तेरा गहना है वाह! तेरा क्या कहना है। सिर्फ बसंत में  गीत गाते हो फिर कहाँ छिप जाते हो? क्यों सुनाई नहीं देती