Rain verses

It's monsoon here in India, and there's a whole variety of rain- drizzling, pattering, ramming, sprinkling, pouring, playing the fool, ... 

Here's some impromptu verse influenced by that glorious falling of water from the heavens: 

~

Curtains of rain
glide over
wandering thoughts
hemming them in
then cauterizing
~
The drip of rain
falling steadily
on my nerves
~
Blue sky peeping upon
A rainwashed verdant world
And the same old me.
~
When raindrops become spears
and slam into the ground
Is it old enmity
or several lifetimes of loving
Does even the rain know?
~
Frenzied torrents
bombard rock
and petal

~

Rain soaked Babhul 
sheds a million glittering diamonds
Naughty breeze
~

* Babhul is a tree with tiny tertiary leaves

पाउस

पहिला पाउस येतो असा
उनाड वादळी वेडा पिसा
एखाद्या घायाळ मनासारखा,
मातीचा सुगन्ध ठेवून जातो. 

परत येतो तो जणू पाहुणा 
हिरवा शालू देउन जातो
तर कधी येतो खेळायला
उन-सावल्या.

आणि एकेदिवशी असाच बरसतो
गाफील मने चिंब करतो
अगदी सहजच
जगाला सांगत-
अजून पावसाळा सुरु आहे
अन मी पाउस आहे.

(c)  अलका येरवडेकर

When it rains

When it rains
I’ll watch with renewed awe
the maniacal swaying of trees
the lightning and thunder

When it rains
I’ll look up at the sky and wonder
how bears, horses and dragons
can all turn into drops of water?

When it rains
I’ll pull out my mud print dress
and gambol in the liquid chatter

When it rains
I’ll wear a silly grin on my face
and hum a song

When it rains
When will it rain?
    ~ ~


(Penned before the rains began in earnest!
Inspired to some extent by the song from the movie 'Singing in the Rain')

Rain..

The rain has now reduced to a mere drizzle. My nose touches the cold glass window pane. Idle fingers break the trail of raindrops tracing an unsteady path down it. I draw patterns in the dust collected on the glass: circles, triangles, stars - and faces...
A red ant scurries along the window sill. Rainwater sits pretty on broad leaves of the frangipani. A sunbird flies into the shelter of a pink Cassia.
The steam-iron is now hot and clicks a warning. I turn back inside, trying to smoothen out disarrayed thoughts.

As I watch the rain outside

Train of raindrops
on cable wires
sliding smoothly

merging

fusing

like hungry lovers

then falling
~ ~ ~

traffic
stuck in a cycle
of red green yellow

straining at the leash

athletes in a row
awaiting the whistle-blow
~ ~ ~

© Alaka Yeravadekar


Published in DNA