A Blue Chalk

Satyanarayan Samui now a shadow-boy; He was a jubilant boy of blood and flesh Nearly 43 years ago. We scuffled over a blue chalk; Thereafter I was not on speaking term with him; After summer vacation he never attended school. He was translated into blue bird... Just by the window of my bed-room Standing a seven-leaf tree Extending its branches Transmits a massage of friendship; At some pitch-black night Stricken by rain-storm and thunder, A bird made of blue light Alights on a branch of that tree; Keeps looking at me blankly... Is it Satyanarayan? Still searching for that blue chalk?