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Ramblings of a bored mind. August 7, 2007

Posted by K in Abstract Ramblings, Uncategorized.

I was waiting for yousendit to do it’s stuff. ‘Stuff’ was taking too darn long.


The rains came late that year.


Every year, by the month of July, one had to take out the umbrellas; and what umbrellas there were! The vendors displayed on their carts everything ranging from the staid black ones of Indian make, to the multi-coloured imports from China and Thailand. Little children would tug at their mothers’ pallus and beseechingly point out umbrellas of unusual design. The mothers would give them a stern look and refuse, but as they hailed a bus, they would turn around and look, remembering their childhood, and remembering how they would have loved to have stood in the rain under that particular umbrella.


However, the rains came late that year. The umbrella sellers looked anxiously at their loaded carts and prayed for the rains to come. If they didn’t get returns on their investment soon, they would begin to go hungry. There are only just so many people who can feed on colours.


The rains came late. The classrooms were stifling, and Marx and Swift floated in and out of square little rooms. Sometimes they would watch a word lazily curl towards the ceiling fan, and then fall back down again. It was simply too hot.


The heat was awful. It would have been bearable had it rained, but the rains, they took their time. Flies buzzed incessantly, and the humid stillness extracted the stench from everywhere, even places you hadn’t thought of before.


The sound of raindrops soothes, however, one went without the soothing that year. Atleast, in the month of July. The rains came late, you see. The still air magnified insignificant sounds. The man urinating next to the wall, a pencil scratching out a note, the mosquito sucking blood. Sounds.


Because the rains came late, the gathering clouds merely gathered. Little droplets of water coming together in the atmosphere, swelling the air like a woman pregnant. Heavier and heavier, until every breath taken seemed a struggle.


And then it came-the deluge! It rained, it poured; like a whiplash it stirred the city into life again. The rains. They were late by a month. But. They came.



1. KnotKeats - August 11, 2007

Really nice poem! I usually don’t care for anything this unstructured, but you string together a lot of really nice word images and it works.

You have some real talent. It’s too bad there’s no money in poetry, but if you want to be a professional writer, you certainly have the talent and the instincts. Your prose is smooth and the language is evocative and vivid.

2. sporadicblogger - August 14, 2007

Poem? You found this poemical? 🙂

Thank you, that is a very nice thing you say. It makes me happy 🙂

3. Paul Sunstone - August 15, 2007

I agree with KnotKeats. It’s a poem, and a beautiful one at that.

4. sporadicblogger - August 15, 2007

Paul Sunstone- Thank you for dropping by 🙂 And thank you for your comment, it’s very kind of you 🙂

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