It appears Koel came back this time
For mango festival a little too early.
Its calls coaxed rains to drop silver

Under an Ashoka tree among its fall
Recently yellow and ripe gray fruits,
Proving a television weather wrong.

Raindrops fall upon its shameless
Parasitic brood, a some one else’s
Responsibility, the way world grew.

The black crow would raise chicks
From its monsoon’s indiscretions.
But koel’s mango song is so sweet

Around stones tongues lick clean
That wagging tongues skip morals
And forgive lack of responsibility.


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