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The bird and the old book



The bird flew a little, perched over a branch of gooseberry tree. The branch trembled and settled. Some dry leafs fell down.
The murmurs of breeze she felt.
It was not new to Sulabha. Smile was dancing over her lips. She knows, it happens everywhere in the nature and what she observed was only a snapshot.
She sighed and looked towards the old book in her hand. She  again immersed in the pages of  the old book ,but felt somewhere a deep connection between the nature and the the words written.
Old book was not the singing bird. The bird was not the book. But she was flying with the old book and the bird from present to past and again to future.



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