AS EARTH SPINS ROUND THE SUN
DISTANCING ITSELF TOWARDS COLD NIGHTS OF WINTER,
THE CLOUDS BREAK SILENCE.
AN ORCHESTRA OPENS WITH A FAN FAIR,
OF THUNDER, SHOWER AND CLOUDS RETREAT.
MONSOON MARKS ITS MELODIOUS RETURN.
MEMORIES RUSH INTO ME TODAY
THE MONSOON MELODIES,
WHOSE MUSINGS HAVE FILLED MY EARS.
LIKE A REWINDING CASSETTE
I'M TAKEN ABACK
ATTENTIVE AND PATIENT,
TO DAYS OLD AND NEW,
LISTENING TO SOUNDS THAT APPEAR,
AND DISAPPEAR, AS THE RAINS SHOWER
AND THE SKY CELEBRATES ITS INTERIM DIWALI.
I HEAR THE PAKORAS CRACKLING IN HOT OIL,
AND TEA KETTLE FUMING MUTE.
AN EVENING OF COOL BREEZE
AFTER A RAINY AFFAIR IN THE AFTERNOON.
THE SUN SEEMED WET TOO,
FOR THE DUSK HAD A VANILLA SKY.
TEA SHOPS ABOUT THE CORNER
HUSTLING IN CONVERSATIONS.
ORDERS MADE, BILLS PAID AND OFFICE UNCLES CRITICAL OF NEW VEGETABLE PRICES.
WALKING PAST BY A GREEN PLAYGROUND,
WITH AN UMBRELLA IN HAND
I WITNESS YOUNG BOYS PLAYING FOOTBALL.
MY EARS ABSORB SOUNDS OF SPLASHING MUDDY WATERS
FROM PAIRS OF FEET AFTER A BALL.
I HEAR SONGS OF VICTORY,
QUARRELLING TEAMS OVER FOULS AND
THE ANGRY GATEKEEPER,
SHOUTING HIS LUNGS OUT TO END THE GAME IN INSTANT FASHION;
"KEEP OFF THIS GROUND, IT'S PRIVATE PROPERTY"
I REMEMBER MORNINGS,
WHOSE PREVIOUS NIGHT HAD IT RAINED.
THE GRASS WAS WET,
SO WAS THE NEWS PAPER AT THE DOORSTEP,
AND THE MILKMAN WHO DELIVERED MILK.
SHOWERS AT NIGHT,
SEEMED TO OPERATE LIKE NATURES AC.
THE SUN WAS RULED OVER ITS MIGHT,
AND IT WAS COOL AND BREEZY.
A STEP OUT OF THE HOUSE
AND YOU COULD SMELL EARTH FRESH.
I MISSED THE SUN THOUGH,
AND RAINY DAYS WOULD SEEM A HEADACHE.
STUDENTS WITH UNIFORMS IN WHITE WOULD UNDERSTAND.
CAME ACROSS A PHOTOGRAPH,
AN OLD PICTURE OF SCHOOL.
MONSOONS MEANT EARLY BREAK OF CLASSES
INTO AMAZEMENT OF THE GOOD GRACIOUS RAIN SHOWERS,
OR THE LATE ENDING OF THE LAST CLASS OF THE DAY
BECAUSE THE BELL KEEPER WOULDN'T GET WET
THE GOOD GRACIOUS RAINS SEEMED SUCH A PAIN THEN.
WE SAT INSIDE CLASSROOMS LOOKING OUT OF THE WINDOWS,
THE CLOUDS SEEMED TO BE GETTING DARKER.
TIME WAS AT THE ESSENCE.
THE SOUND OF THE BELL STILL RESONATES YEARS LATER.
RAINY DAYS HAD MOSTLY EMPTY ROADS AND,
BYE LANES LESS OCCUPIED WITH THEIR PARKING SPACE.
THOSE LANES BECAME MINI CRICKET GROUNDS.
IN NO TIME DID THE WICKETS AND PLAYERS TAKE POSITION
AND A ONE DAY MATCH DURING AFTERNOON SHOWERS WAS IN ORDER.
A SHOT BEYOND THE BOUNDARY,
MEANT CALLING OUT TO A PERSON AT THE BUS STOP
TO RETURN THE BALL.
THE ESTEEMED AUDIENCE AT THE BUS STOP PAVILION,
TOOK MUCH PLEASURE AT THE GAMES.
ENTERTAINMENT WAS FOR FREE,
THE TEA STALL, HOWEVER
CHARGED 5 RUPEES FOR TEA.
MONSOON DAYS AS SUCH,
BROUGHT REFLECTION AND MEMORIES TOGETHER.
MUSINGS BOTH MUTE AND SENSUOUS
GIVEN LIFE IN THE MIND CANVAS.
SO UNTIL THE ORCHESTRA OF MONSOON CONTINUES,
DREAM A LITTLE DREAM,
DWELL INTO MEMORIES, REFLECT,
RESONATE, SING AND OBSERVE.
FOR THE SUN SEEMS WET,
AND THE SKY VANILLA.
REJOICE AND LISTEN,
THE MONSOON SING IT'S A CAPELLA!
