Srinagar, Aug. 6 -- There are some memories that never fade, no matter how many years pass. My childhood was filled with the melodious songs of nightingales. Like countless children growing up in the villages of Kashmir, I shared a special bond with these tiny birds. Their cheerful presence was as much a part of our lives as the flowing streams, the towering Chinars, and the blooming orchards.

As a child, I would spend hours watching them. Later, as I grew older, the habit remained unchanged. Every morning I would place rice grains in a shallow bowl-shaped plate outside my home. Before long, the nightingales would arrive in groups. They would hop around joyfully, peck at the grains, fly to a nearby branch, return again, and fill the air ...