Listener...

 It was at a time when April was about to come and March was nearing its end. The spring afternoon, we were lazily swinging in the garden under the shade of mango trees. Light gusts of wind were caressing our bodies occasionally. Mango trees were in full bloom. The echo of the cuckoo sitting on a nearby tree, the humming of bees, water pouring over grass and flowers through sprinklers, all were reciting poetry of nature.

I had just finished talking about the saga of mango tree in my home yard. How it used to bear sweet fruit and how it stopped bearing after it struck by lighting in previous year's rains.

 "You always have story to tell.", You smiled. 

 "Everyone carries a big lot of stories within oneself, but not everyone has words to express. If few lucky people have words then they won't get listeners or friends who would show interest in these type of silly stories."

 We chatted for sometime and there was silence once again, like in the beginning, there was no sound - no voice but of cuckoo and bees . The world looks so colorful at this time of year. You started beholding the nature and picked the colors to fill in our lives. Meanwhile I just closed my eyes to lend my ears to the nature.