Friday, September 24, 2010

Rain Walk

Rain, rain, come again. A crackle at first and the heart goes
green with lushness. It starts with drip drop falling down falling
down, to patter patter and finally comes with lightening,thunder
and in torrents. Time has come to welcome the grey skies and
pray for more rain. All your despairs swell in the building clouds.
You come out in the open and get drenched in the desolate
world.



No one is there in the pavement, in the shining street, in the
boulevard, in the park. On the window pane, tiny circular
raindrops inspire creepers and pot plant on the rain drenched
balcony.

You walk in the softest sound of music of rain. “Who hears
music, feels his solitude peopled at once?” You share that
rare moment of unlocking imprisoned splendor and entering of
shimmering light.

All the offices and shops are closed. One or two odd buses or
cars sizzle past you, splashing water on your body. A few wet
birds flying over the white temple.

Crows and pigeons sit on the terraces of the tall buildings,
flapping their wings. You dig inside and feel some light, some
darkness, some known, and some unknown.

The ceaseless rain
Soften lush green garden plots
can two opposite souls merge?

The contour of the landscape, the blurred shadow of mountain
behind, the forlorn moist moment -all roll into a magical interface
of the inside and outdoor. The thin dim light of the lamppost as if
joining hands in strong entreaty with the grim surroundings.

You walk alone on the slippery road and whistle a song. On the
riverside, the terrible current of the river, waves shapes like a
rolling wheels, the fiery sound of water lashing the shore, the
boat lies there caressing the bank vigorously invite fear on your
wrinkled face. The evening light slowing and dissolving on the
horizon.

You keep your calmness and walk on in blinding rain. Your rain
drenched body shiver in the cold wind, in the blistering storm.

You enter the park, sit on the wet bench and wash your tears
in rain. Over your face the shadows of the sickly evening fall.
These shadows shall protect you as you stroll on by trying to find
something you lost along your life's path.

Now, it’s drizzling and the lazy raindrops fall on your soft palm
and leave impression of your solitary mind.

The slow whispers in your eyes in frame
Stick to your cold lips the rain prints
and echo of your inaudible words.

You stay under the trees. You exchange silent words with the
dark brown bark, with the round heavy trunk, with the broken
branches, with the falling leaves.

Tiny bushes rear their head and start a conversation on rhymes
of rain. Who shall plant? Who will garner? Strange sounds of

beast scare you. Are they near?

Where are the honey bees? The grasshoppers are as if flying
past in a rage. You try to catch firefly and you fail at the end of
the day done and dusted.

You touch the wet petals. How keen they are to listen to your
words? Your frail fingers touch the grass and weed and they turn
green. Shadows fall gradually on your face and envelop the fear.

The greatest strength is used to form
A rainbow of resonance that spur the
Sixth sense of each and all.

There, that is final secret: Go to sleep! You will wake, and
remember, and understand.
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