me1.jpg“During one of my trips to Mumbai I “encountered heavy storms” {chasing the monsoon as well as my dreams}. This very long n heavy piece is inspired in part by Neruda’s collection.

“Suddenly a thunderous performance unveiled
in the skies,the city swiftly captured by the storm
throbbing wild,unsettled I moved under the warmth
of my quilt,to hear the sea lamenting over the
dawn rising sad and subdued.

A soft rhythm of your breath next to me,if I stretch
my arm I could feel the smooth undertones of your skin,
reluctant I find my heart to touch the stranger in you,
where is the man I loved?the man whose eyes sparkled
at my passion?where is the warm mouth that kissed me?
the strings of heart beating against my breast?

I rose from the bed,leaned against the window watching
the rain drops slithering down to talk to the silence
unfolding in my eyes,I cried aloud in my grief,
none to mock my tears,none to laugh at my weakness,
none to fake a sympathy,I ran through those empty
streets,desolate spaces,drenched,slipped a few times
seeking you,to feel vulnerable again with your touch,
to watch my yearning submerging helpless in your love

I turned back to see you standing silently behind me,
a stranger ! when did you arrive – carrying stillness
in the air, looking at me as if a kiss previous night
sealed your mouth, unmotioned and nonchalant,
Oh! you seemed so far away, ruffled at the cry of
sea birds over the grey sea.

I crossed your street,I paved my own way clutching
the sad heart of mine,gathering those inactive moments
of silence, closed my eyes feeling the rain inside me
echoing my anguish “Will I ever talk to you again?”

Ityaadi queried me “So near and so far, did this inspiration come to you as a result of the season?”.Mita said, i’m still looking for words to react to this one-if i said it’s beautifully ‘felt’, even that wud be an understatement. Rashmi muses,the rain drops slithering down to talk to the silence  unfolding in my eyes”.Classic!!!Love it…Awesome depth…I envy the intensity, in spite of the suffocation it entails.The pressure is high, the deeper you go…
n like your breath floats to the surface, so do your words.

Anand sir……It rains inside everyone
It’s what it rains on
That makes the difference
Fertile ground somewhere
And creativity germinates
Into a poetic expression

Ajji’s classic act….carrying stillness
in the air
you stood still
remembering the kiss that left
us firmly engraved on the walls
of time.
Now, the rain has drenched that wall
between us. The wall within us.
And I wish it rains heavily today
So that, bit by bit, gradually
that wall vanishes off.
I wish that the stillness in the air
gets translated into fragrance
of our smiles.
in the company of every one here
in this ‘dead poets’ society’
i wish to see something not-so-dead being born
while the rain absorbs us.
And then suddenly I hear myself asking “will we every talk
the way we did?”
Will I ever smell the air with you again
when it has stopped raining?
I tried to capture the moment oscillating between a sense of tranquillity and tension!
“the rain drops slithering down to talk to the silence
unfolding in my eyes”……………………………………to the boy who made love to me!

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