The Gift of the Monsoon

At last you came..


I waited for long with a desire of a thirsty wings of a bird to fly

But now as the moment came when you came finally

I have nothing to offer you

Except lostness and solitude.

The moment you came....

A hush of sharp wind swept the city of gray concretes

The begging bowl dropped from the hands of a wrinkled beggar

With scattered pieces of coins

Two college girls passed me running with their eyes half-closed

A swarm of dust strangled the traffic for seconds

And then the last ray of sun shaded away from the day

And my sun-burnt red face got the first touch of the Monsoon

My pains..my anger..my frustrations and all the daily hazards

Now got soaked in the water droplets

Making me nothing

But Pure..Very Pure.



And then you came

In drops..in showers..in twinkling eyes..in dancing eyelids..in tottering lips..

In open hands..in soaked hairs..in muddy shoes..

In Loving soul..

And in the first blooming of the first letter..first word..

The first tune of rhythm..

Another ordinary evening which turned special

As I got a poem..



I started walking in the rain..

I walked completely soaked..

Behind me the city looked green washed in rain

The scent of the wet soil in air..

I walked

I walked..

And I smiled..

I can loose everything but still I would be special

I would be different

As I have the gift of words with me..

The sheer amazement of poetry..

Which is my truth

My Private Honour!