One fine morning this year (October it was), a bird came singing at my window,

waking me up from a peaceful morning sleep. But then, how can you prioritize a
peaceful sleep over a peaceful singing, or may be you can, but I just did not. I
said my quick hello to the bird and watched her from the distance and for a while
listened to her singing too. She was a rather unexpected but a welcome guest. Rest
of the day was as mundane as it could be, except that I got to say a quick hello
again to the bird for, she was still there in the evening.

It was not before the next morning when she sang me awake again that I realised (as
I went closer to my window) that she had made a nest there. Heck my window!-
nothing mine, it was 'her' home. And lying in there were three eggs. For a
fortnight, we saw her (or rather smelled her) patiently sitting and giving all the
warmth it needed for the kids to hatch out of the eggs.
Procreation, I learnt, smells awful.

The kids hatched out: three yellow-colored tiny birds. They grew to be grayish,
developed wings and they flew away. Because, that's what the birds do- they fly
away. We saw it all (or rather heard it all, for, kids learnt the singing, too).
And we then heard the mother bird crying for two long nights.
Separation, I recalled, sounds awful.
And ultimately, she flew away, too. Because, you know, that's what the birds do!
They fly away.
But, but, but. I tell you, their smell remains (The room freshner smells of them).
Their sound remains, too.

Just that, I wonder how a few 'persons' in my life have been birds, too- making a
nest at the window of my heart. Heck my heart- nothing mine, it is 'their' home.
I've got to see the whole of them through some part of their lives or other. Have
seen them smile, heard them talk, heard them in their silences too. Day in and day
out. And then, just like the birds do, they've flown away too.
But then.
Their smile remains. Their sound remains, too.