Our Nest - - - - -

I am in the Army
FAUJ JAHAAN LE JAATI HAI , CHALAA JAATA HOON,
during the nomadic life
we came to a place,
a place called Naukuchiatal,
more about Naukuchiatal some other time,
but we liked it and made a house , a small house on the shore of the beautiful lake,
We are three in the family and with love and hope in our heart we created small but enough accomodation for our small family, for present,
and the future,
when the son gets married and has his family, and we have grand children and ----- the dream went on,
Last CHUTTI ( leave ) we were siting in our veranda,
the same pair of beautiful birds appeared which has been coming for last so many years
'Money bird' the locals call it, and the belief is that the house that it makes its nest in; prospers.
It has been coming for many years,
and if prospering means steady growth of contentment and happiness,
we have been blessed by this little bird,
During the past years
once they left,
the mud nest used to be removed by us,
last year my wife didn't,
she after all stays there permanently and was a witness to the hard work put in by the fragile pair,
mouth full by mouth full, they would bring mud from the lake near by and lovingly stick it to the growing home of theirs,
once completed they would bring up the next generation,
and one day the whole family would fly off, deserting the lovingly built home.
We kept it last year,
my wife said , moved by the homemaker, the mother in her,
why should they do the hard work .
This time when they come they will not have to work so hard ,
they would have a home ready to welcome them, constructed by the generation before them.
they would happily bring up the next generation,
or so she thought, and I agreed, (I in any case didn't have an option,)
the pair came , saw the place , saw the nest and left,
they didn't take the accommodation kept lovingly intact for them
they started building there own new home,
Amazing as it may sound, a house built by the previous generation, was not acceptable to them,
my wife is sad,
the nest is still there, and will continue to be there till it falls of by it self,
she will not remove it, and I don't have the authority, nor the guts, actually not the heart even,
but she is sad all right,
and I am contemplating.
My grand father did not stay in the house that his father built in Aligarh,
My father did not stay in the house made by my grandfather in Saharanpur,
I have chosen not to stay in the house made by my father at Gaziabad,
My son
will you at least come once in a while to stay in your room,
so lovingly made for you,
and where your mother spends lot of time every day,
she relives the days when you used to be messing it up without fail
and she used to be scolding you without any anger,
and where I will soon be painting the 'Beatels' poster that you and I both have liked,
Or will you,
my son,
fly away and make your own nest some where else,
Don't feel compelled to cater to our emotions, we all after all made our own choices,
you would be entitled to yours,
as regards us,
your mother will find her peace in that room ,
and I will keep painting it to your liking,
even when you are conquering your own peaks,
meanwhile, -----
the birds are bringing in mud,
mouthful by mouthful
and we are watching, knowing well,
this home will be deserted next season,

KABHI KISI KO MUQAMMAL JAHAAN NAHIN MILTA