Towards the end of every sweltering summer, life on earth fails to keep itself pepped. Eyes go up, towards the heaven and hearts devoutly call for the tranquil drops to come down.
Monsoon, clouds and rain have always amazed us. From the petrichor pleasing our nostrils to the sober wind carrying it, to the rhythm of rain drops on the ground, the season has a different aura about it . There are multiple ways in which people relate to it. While for some, the bud of love gives way to a beautiful flower, for some it drags into mind lovely reminiscences to cherish and there are some who find it ecstatic enough to add to the rhythm , the wriggling of pen on paper .
Whatever it might be, monsoon soothes each of us, promising the revival of life, mind and soul and the coming of pleasant days.
I can’t stop admiring how beautifully Langston Hughes puts it in a few words. I quote, ” Let the rain kiss you, let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops,let the rain sing you a lullaby”
In the poem below, the earth and sky have been considered to be lovers whose rendezvous is obstructed by the blazing sun. But how their love mesmerizes every breathing body on earth , ultimately conquering the deterrent sun to reconciliate after months is what the strings of words carry. As the sky melts down to kiss his beloved earth, the Union sets everything at ease and boils what lies deep in the emotional well.
Eternal lovers separated by miles
Except for the horizon, which is but an illusion
Are to reconcile in minutes to come.
The earth insinuating her eagerness for the rendezvous
Emanates the fresh and fulfilling petrichor
That permeates in every inch of free space.
The sky, overwhelmed after every sniff of the musky aroma
Bulges a bit, darkens a bit, hangs down a bit
Only to be sucked by the obstinate sun
Which has long been restricting their assignation.
Distressed, the anticipating sky heaves a sigh
And sways every whippy being
Lovingly held and cared by the substratum.
The dusky grasses toss their heads
In sync with the wriggling slender branches
And the whistling and palpating window panes
While the intensifying petrichor dampens
The opaque walls closing in on people.
Everything under the sky wheezes
Whispering the song of love and hope
That soothes and etherizes the burning sun
Which reclines against the darkest cloud.
The sky, no more restricted, no more ashamed
Descends as a drop to kiss the tanned, sprawling land.
Gratified, yet thirsty to fill the void
Created by the precedent season
It sends down one more drop
One more, two more… three, four, five at a time
Some more, more and more and more
A thousand at a time,
For it doesn’t want to let any bit of its beloved
It desperately comes down on the land
That blissfully bares herself to the sky
Disregarding the pain inflicted
As the whizzing drops thrust her tender chest
Piercing , gaping wounds of love.
Quite unapologetic and unabashed of the
Noise released as it passionately smooches
The earth, the sky pitters and patters and clatters
On the ground to announce the joy of the Union
For it knows, the sound of love can be envied
But never hated.
Bewildered by the passion the earth and sky display
The world stops around them, amazed!
Tyres screech on concrete roads,
Men stop to take refuge under canopies
Women close the windows with curtains pulled off
Legs squeezed into their bosom with reminiscing eyes
Dissecting their misty wedding photographs on the wall
Swinging with the rhythm of love being played
Behind the same wall
While young maidens acquiesced in their hormones
Clasp themselves, fantasizing of being warmed
By their prince Charming.
Not to forget the soaked and sabotaged eyes
Camouflaging the tears with the dashed lines of water
Joining the earth and sky.
Behind walls and windows,
Waiting for the lovers to calm down
Occasionally peeping to glimpse the reinvigorating union
That is yet to conceive hope, life and resilience
Some grin, some recollect, some heal, some fantasise
While some weave another robe of metaphors
Embroidered with amorous verses shared by the couple
Quite esoteric to others
To be clad and consoled by in the
Desiccated, wizened days to come.