Sunlight peeped inside the antique room against the pale whitewashed walls of wood and brick. It was dawn. Still in bed, Jeetu could hear the cawing of a crow. The hoarse cawing saddened him. He saw the crow landing on a branch of the old mango tree. Bird language always fascinates him, but not today. It was believed the cawing of crow at dawn brings sad news. It was the day of Uruka. In this little hamlet far from the cacophony of the city, he heard the singing of the cuckoo bird. The kopou phool was blooming on the betel nut tree. Rain water created a silver canopy in the paddy field. Frogs are croaking. Jeetu’s mother Seuti rushed to his room at the end of their L patterned Assam type ancestral house and said, “Jeetu, please do not go out today. I had a terrible dream. People say the late night dream…
