Two pigeons, on my window sill,
shying away from the monsoon rains,
gently cooing, with life afill,
seeing me, they risked the clouds again.
Back they came, fleeing those dreary, wet pains,
but I, covert in a corner, did blunder,
at their confused, affectionate fluttering- I laughed without refrain;
scared, they fled, wits asunder.
They were, two hearts, each shielding the other,
made wet by a person's blunder,
sticking together through varied times,
and by fate. Ah, Fate! What a wonder!
And I am one, with two eyes,
taking it all in,
hoping to be knowing and wise,
amidst the wide world's din.
