Month: June 2021

Monsoon has arrived.
 Lot of wet spells on the anvil.
 Cultivation commences.

it is on time,
not like the years before
when it failed  bitterly.

This year summer turned 
pleasant, unusual of it.
Mercury did not rise high.

A proven delight about to unfold
collapses miserably as the evil 
hands of pandemic props out.

Eyeing a devastation Nature
 extends a bounteous solace.
 True, if one door closes, the other opens.

Wind blows strong with a roar,
Coconuts fall on the roof, thud thud
it goes, setting the heart to pound.

Unusual of the Sun. It is 4
in the evening. Darkness casts
in full fledge, Down goes the Sun,

Could this be a bad omen?
Is the world going to end?
The throb induces a palpitation.

[i]Lub [/i]a [i]dub [/i]beats the heart
Mild pain radiates through the arm
travels to the wrist.

Pressure accelerates,
resting the head on a raised
pillow, I look around,

Every other thing is in place,
ceiling fan, lights, consoles
remain unscathed. it is only me.

Sun is up again,
wind has ceased,
So do I. Fig like I turn
strong and cheerful

Pictures  of  people, smiling
 proud  of their might, 
 handing over cash, 
bank drafts, oxygen 
cylinders, concentrators,
food, gloves, masks, 
PPE kit, 

The overly rich have access 
to the top brass. immaculately 
dressed not forgetting to wear  
masks  rob the limelight 
with a fat package,

The second rung 
 hand over cash 
and kind to the  District 
Administrators. I presume  
the schedules to  be 
less heavy.

The Deputy officers 
receive from the third 
strata, must be  minimal
 say in thousands, Cameras 
capture the grin and pride
 of the giver.  

I think of the Doctors, 
Nurses, Drivers, Technicians, 
and the workers  in the graveyard.
pledging  their life,, toiling 
to revive the afflicted.

Their family  is  in  constant fear,  
death looms large, Sleepless eyes, 
aching arms, wry smiles,  go
 unphotographed.

As a girl, I thought 
I am non pareil, a heir
to a prosperous  businessman.

Still more, felt elated 
to be a child of a talented 
rich lady

I grew up  in splendour
under strict inspection
 impossible to deviate.

Prescriptions were set
schedules fixed, clothes 
starched and ironed,

outfits being traditional,
long skirts while young,
cotton sarees while as a girl.

Tutors came in the evening,
vocal, dance and playing 
on veena, every alternate day,

Routine I could never escape.
I went  to school with 
a tight single plait, 

a string of flowers
pinned to the hair,
a red round kum kum 

bhindi on the center 
of the forehead,  
were trademarks 

which identified me through 
school and university,  extend 
to this day with a minor change.

My  peppery hair has gone up 
in the form of a tiny bun like knot,
while my gait has altered marginally.

A slow walk  with an oscillation
to balance my aching knees,
has  assumed a dominance.

I hear a call from far,
” Amma, wait,  I have come
 to drive you back home.”

I have walked a kilometer
from my house,  thinking 
of the past and the present.
No thought of future for now