gathered up, would have fallen down plump; but that was not in the bird’s destiny—it was not included in the endless chain of cause and effect, or it was not a merit arising from the bird’s actions in a previous birth.
The stupid bird again called, "Kuhu! kuhu!"
"Be off with you, Black-face!" exclaimed Rohini, and went on her way; went on, but she did not forget the cuckoo. My firm belief is that the cuckoo had sung out of season. When a poor widow is going alone to fetch water, it is not good to call after her, because the voice of the cuckoo brings painful thoughts into the mind, such as: "I have lost something, and through that loss my whole life is wasted; I shall never find it again; something has gone; some one has left me; there is something unattained; something I shall never get." It seems to say, "I have lost a jewel somewhere; some one calls and makes me weep; my life is spent in vain; my cup of happiness has not been filled; I have tasted nothing of the unceasing joys of life!"
Again "kuhu! kuhu!" Rohini, looking round, saw the blue, clear, boundless sky,
