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The pitter-patter of rain is music to my ears
The dancing raindrops sing their own melody
The sky is swathed in myriad shades of grey
the scattered clouds chase each other merrily
the trees sway in happiness
the leaves shiver with delight
Oh the heavenly manna
blessing the parched earth!
turning it from dusty brown
to a lively green hue
let it rain, let it pour,
let it drench to the core
let it reign over the heat
let it rain to a staccato beat.
Sitting on the edge of twilight zone of consciousness
dangling by gossamer thread of sanity on the verge of slumber
casting random pebbles of words
into the pond of turbid reflections
causing ripples to stir abandoned memories
that had banded together and resisted being written about
and had become tight fisted about confession
I wait an eternity for some response
empty handed and exhausted I stray back to sleep
hypnotized by the darkness of nightmares.
When it rains after a long dry spell,
it is hot and humid and stifling
the rain only seems to be interested in a fling with the earth
the water sizzles away even before falling on the ground
vanishes mistily from parched leaves
leaving them steaming behind
the roots remain thirsty as ever, wanting more
but getting none of the promised moisture
the sun reappears in all its blazing glory
and the wait begins, again.
Have you ever felt
helplessness and hopelessness
take control of your existence
no, not occasionally,
but every single day of your life
sticky and gooey; covering you from head to toe
seeping into your soul
have you ever been fed
a steady diet of disdain and insults
it tastes so bitter that your tastebuds die
and you can taste bile
topped by a cocktail of abuse and violence
a combination so potent
killing your appetite
that you never realise
you have slept on an empty stomach
have you ever been denied
even a scintilla, a smidgen of hope
to escape the life of drudgery
no chance of flight of freedom
if you have never felt like this
then you have no clue
how the marginalized live or feel
unseen, unheard and totally ignored
to exist on the very periphery of life
is worse than death itself.
“Your religion or mine,” inflamed more passions
than a night together could have
we refused to meet halfway
and thus sworn enemies forever,
we set out to decimate not just each other
but everyone who seemed to be on the opposing side
I wish for one night,
only one,
we could have discarded religion like clothes
counted each others’ ribs
and run our hands over each others scarred hearts
then under the canopy of stars
that is neither your nor mine
in the soft moonlight that shines equally on us
had laid on the grass which does not protest
whether you step on it or I
and read out verses to each other from our scriptures
and marvelled at the beauty of similarity in difference
and buried forever the books that divided us
and saved us from religion
maybe then…
but I am a fool and this
a foolish notion!!
In the hierarchy of everything
social to religious, political to domestic
I am always given the short shrift
ain’t I a woman, I am chided
I have no rights in the scheme of things
the advocates of equality
gloss over everyday inequalities
calling them minor blips
when I raise my voice, I am gently
but decisively reminded
disturbing the serene albeit
murky waters of status quo
will leave me sullied and muddied
but they don’t know
I have never shied from getting my hands dirty.
You were always the Mr. Perfectionist ; ordered and meticulous
but the day you left, you were in such a hurry
that you remembered only to pry away your heart from me,
that you also took away my heart, is of no consequence,
my heart any way was of no use to me
as it was meant to beat only for you (but I digress)
I find signs of you scattered all around
in folded laundry, crammed drawers,
old shoe boxes and the medicine cabinet
the raw hole beneath my ribs where your heart resided
has become a cesspool of aching memories
every time a thought gets snagged on its jagged edge
I begin to unravel…
the unfulfilled dreams still smolder somewhere in my eyes
the unkept promises hang in limbo arms akimbo
unquantifiable desires burn my skin with crackling reminiscences
unrequited love is such a cruel monster
it refuses to heed my plaintive cries for release
knowing you has become such a conundrum for me
whether I continue to hate you or love you
you are always with me
under my skin, in my thoughts
invading every space I inhabit
I await my release.
That day, tired of years of posturing,
when I decided not to be answerable to you or to the world
I rediscovered my authentic self;
shorn of all the trappings of being the most likeable
blinded by my urge to merge,
I had moulded my soul and blended my body
but it was becoming endlessly torturous to rein in myself
my acerbic tongue that you had tied in a love knot
freed itself to speak the language it was meant to
I do hope you understand that
if I am not acceptable the way I am, then I cease to be
let me be echt.
If I tell you I want to walk barefoot
on the dew soaked carpet of grass
to feel alive as it tickle my toes
and count the leaves swirling n twirling in the cool breeze
as I ever so gently touch the velvety petals of a wild flower
would you join me or laugh at me as one would at a newbie?
do you find it strange that rain
still makes me want to play with paper boats
to catch the falling raindrops on my tongue
and on moon-less, star studded nights
I wish I could bottle a few stars, like fireflies in a jar
to light my world when darkness seeps in
as I type this, I feel like a phoney
for I am giving a miss to
the darkening thunder clouds outside my window
stay awhile…
let me first enjoy the light and sound show!
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