From a nightingale’s perfect throat
In our backyard, we recall her poem
About some circles of light around
Our girls’ dainty wrists, so perfect,
As they slip softly on extended wrists
And you don’t know where girl ended
And morning’s many-hued light began.
(Recalling the poem “Bangles” by Sarojini Naidu, our Hyderabad’s very own nightingale, on her 135th birth anniversary)