It was afternoon. The sweet light of the sun touched the edge of the field in a flash. This time brings a different beauty to the village path. When the light breeze blows in the bamboo trees next to the mud house, it seems as if the surroundings are singing. A young man, his name is Kushal, is walking slowly along the path. Everyone in the village calls him "Kabiyal".
Kushal loved music and poetry since childhood. He got the taste of folk songs in the presence of his father. Dada was also a renowned bowl artist. Kushal is the sole heir of that clan. But he wrote songs and poems and sent them to the city newspapers, but no one responded much. Still he did not stop.
He finds a kind of release in this small village far from the city. The smell of the soil, the plants, and the diversity of nature inspires him anew every day. His relationship with the people of the village was also deep. If there was poetry in the night chat, Kushal was at the center. Everyone was stunned as soon as he started speaking. Each word seemed to bind the surroundings.
Kushal's mind is very happy this afternoon. A special occasion ahead. The annual poetry recital of the village is going to be organized. This time a new rival will come from the neighboring village. The name is Siddharth, once he was very popular. But then for a long time, no one saw him at the poetry recital. As the saying goes, Asar is the battlefield for a good poet. There is only wordplay, words have to win the hearts of the audience.
Kushal was thinking while walking, how will the competition with Siddharth be? Many questions began to pop into his mind. Suddenly, a thrilling excitement arose in the mind. This competition is a big occasion not only for him but for the entire village. Last time, Kushal almost won the competition. But this time in front of him is a skilled opponent.
The next day the village fair is held. On one side of the stage, the elders of the village are sitting with large palm leaf fans. Meanwhile, at the end of the field is a big pandal. Two rivals of Kabigan are sitting in the middle of it. Kushal and Siddharth are sitting facing each other. A crowd of eager people around. Everyone is waiting to see who will speak first.
The beginning of poetry. First Kushal started in a sweet tone –
_"Love's whistle blows in a distant field,
The mind goes to that barbed wire.
When the heart beats incessantly,
Then I understand that this mind is only your name."_
His voice is very touching. Applause began to resound from all around. But Siddharth sits quietly. He began to speak very slowly –
_"The flute of love blows in whose heart,
He spends his life in boredom.
Why are you tied to barbed wire?
Love is bad in the tune of nature."_
After listening to Siddharth's words, there was a silence among the audience too. Kushal knew this rival could not be underestimated. On his next turn he struck a different tone. This time there was a sad tone in his voice.
_"The light is lost in the shadows of the clouds,
Stand aloof in pride.
Love comes quietly,
Why did he stay next to love?"_
The depth of Kushal's voice should continue to increase. This time some in the audience began to cry. They are realizing that this Kabial doesn't just sing, but touches the secret corners of people's minds. But Siddhartha did not stop. He went one step further this time –
"Your mind doesn't want light,
Find the right bet behind the clouds.
If love is true deep in the heart,
But he will never be confused."_
Now the real competition started between the two rivals. One after the other in tune, in words they answer each other. People in the audience listen with fascination. Fear entered Kushal's mind for a moment. But he knows, his power is hidden within himself. There is an individuality in his words, which is not found in any other poet.
When the last turn started, both Kabials wanted to finish with their best. Kushal said in his last song –
"Love is not an easy thing,
Only the heart is responsible with you.
If you go away, let's go.
But the song of the mind still remains in the same tune."_
The depth of his voice, the sweetness of the melody surprised everyone once again. Siddharth honored Kushal with a small smile before taking his turn. The audience also fell silent at this moment. Siddhartha says –
"I found my heart in your tune,
I found life in your words.
Love is not just a song,
It is two minds, two souls."_
After hearing these last words, the entire assembly was stunned. Then in a moment the silence was broken by a roar of applause.
At the end of that day, no one was defeated. Kushal and Siddharth shake hands with each other. The poetry session is over, but their friendship is like the beginning of a new chapter.