The RainDrops

The monsoons were here and the clouds were forming

The clouds formed and the sky darkened

Now from the pleasant blue to the ugly ochre,

From the brownish hue to the greyish shade

And the earth had descended into darkness,

Within a few honking of car horns and changing of traffic lights.

The cumulonimbus – the sheared off wool from some pathetically naked sheep

The sudden dash of light through the sky- hope in a dark village

The thunderclap- the sound of a thousand chariots rushing to war

And the water cycle completes as all the ingredients are added

And all is calm once again . . . . . .

But not for long

The widow watches helpless and wet

The sindoor is now nothing but a puddle of lead oxide at her feet

The very skin which he had touched is washed clean of the love and lust

Her tears lost in the tears from heaven

The boy watches helpless and wet

The celebrations of the opponents

His knees digging into the muddy field as did the palms of his hands

His dilapidated body visible through his soaked jersey

The man watches helpless and wet

A single red rose lying face down in the muddy water at his feet

The love of his life walking away, turned away forever

A single diamond ring falls from his hand and disappears with what had been his life

The soldier watches helpless and wet

His comrade breathing his last in front of him

The drops fall fast and thick from his eyes and the Lord’s

But the phoenix doesn’t cry on his wound

The girl watches helpless and wet

As the carnivorous men approach her body

She knows what’s about to happen

But the men don’t see her masked tears

The shopaholic watches helpless and wet

Her day’s hard work now sprinkled with mud courtesy the blindly rushing traffic

She thinks of screaming her lungs out

But her thoughts drown in the pitter patter of the rain

The beggar watches helpless and wet

His hard bed for the night now enhanced to a large muddy puddle

The incessant downpour only broken by the incessant feet splashing their way through his bed

He has no more tears to shed, no more looks to the skies

All of them watch on helpless and wet

But the toddler fights out of her mother’s grasp and out from under the umbrella

Wet and helpless

Helping herself to the magic that had descended torrentially

Her mirthful laugh haunts them all

The same rain falls on them all

Washing away the past.

The pains.

The rejections.

The losses.

The betrayal.

Uniting the haves and the have-nots.

Ushering in the future .

Playful and smiling . . . . . .