monsoon 2 me

Monsoon to me
Means a wet creeper climbing unto my window
While I sit there, devouring a novel
An old novel, with its edges torn
A discovery from my uncle’s a rickety shelf…
Yellowed pages, eaten up by fungus
Sitting on dad’s archaic bed
At my ancestral place

In the nights,
Ruthless thundering
And the fear of a snake sneaking in

Monsoon to me
Means a scooty ride
After a tiring day,
The air clean of dust
The road shining clean…n vehicles rushing home
Me crying to loosen the heart
Drenched in tears and rain…

Monsoon to me
Means the coconut tree near my window
Beating the glass pain…
And it raining throughout the nights…

Monsoon to me
Is waking up
One Sunday morning
To find puddles in my backyard…
Watching news with a cuppa in hand
The rest of the state brimming with floodwaters…

Strange thoughts,
Dreams that would never be true
Frequenting my mind every now
And then…


Shake Al Ansaari said...

nice poem girl....and beautifully written

Voice said...

thnx for visiting my blog

comment on ur poem

# where u live ... in the concrete jungle it is hard to have a creeper climbing upto ur window.. etc etc
give me a pic that u live in sub-urb or something like that..

#dreams may come true.. :)
good creation

#start replying to the comments, i will visit again to check the reply.

wildflower said...

@shake al ansaari

@ voice
i like da way u do comment, v systematic, wudn't b wrong to confess, dat i m impressed :D
n da creeper climbing upto my window--those r memories of my childhood in ma village, which has remained so till today...wan me to take u deR?:P

StandbyMind said...

Wow..This one was a real great read...
I cab relate to the part where utalk about those old novels...that smell.. I have spent so much time finding them in old drawers...

Just wonderful Poem!!!!!

Anonymous said...

I am in envy.