It rained all day
I lay on my back, on the bed by the window, and stared out at the sky,
the diagonal slashes shading the sky, the wet crows
and throbbing puddles on the sheet of plastic
covering the stairway to the terrace above
the plastic was white & translucent
the water had collected on it in a thin layer
the new drops falling on it,
made little ripples across the surface
The stairs were rain polished
Slick and wet
The wind chime, its old wood glowing with the water,
danced in a frenzy with the wind,
But its song was drowned by the drumming beat of the rain …
At the far end of the plastic sheet,
the falling rain collected in little rivers and slid down,
riding the edge like children on banisters
and every so often, if you followed the little rivers with ur eyes,
they got too heavy to carry their own weight, and plopped off softly
plunging down into the void
below, at the ‘open air garage’, and in the buildings around,
there was a mild mayhem
people were running around and a frantic voice floated up now and then,
screaming for someone to get something in out of the rain’s way
Twice, Barbie & her friends went past my window
scurrying up to the terrace like the children they are on the verge of outgrowing
such an interesting place, this,
this pause at the periphery in our paths from childhood to full human
Later, in the evening,
When the sky had darkened to cerullean,
so that the occasional flashes of lightning showed up more starkly,
Ady and Juls come over.
Munal and Hamza are there as well. And the boy.
Like old times, the rooms came alive again
As the walls bounced off the voices and laughter
We sat randomly scattered around,
like cushions thrown casually around a beautiful, old sofa
For a while, the security,
in the ease of the roughly 2 & a half decade old friendships,
lulls the feeling of the storm outside
yet through the jokes and horsing, there’s a part of me
thats left cold as always
the observer: it always watches the rest of me
somewhere i’m always the outsider
i travel everywhere, and try everyone
but i never really fit in
their language, their thoughts, their attractions, and lusts
sometimes seem so trivial, sometimes seems too much
maybe i just see too much
maybe i want too much
to find a mind one can admire, was the old ambition
now broken and faded, like a crumbling wall
then u just look for one u can tolerate
atleast some of the times
the clouds have run out of water
i get an eerie feeling of huge dry flints
being rubbed againts each other …
a frission of fear: what if He were near?
between the flashes, everything looks deceptively normal
but everynow and then w/o warning the lightning flares
like a dry storm, in dry clouds, that want to, but cant rain; or dont
After they leave, I cant settle down
In the middle of the cheerful evening,
And old ghost visited
Laughing like us, it stands behind my left shoulder
Suddenly there’s a freezing hand behind my neck
Dirty, Slimy, Smelling of the underworld
I shudder, and struggle to break free
Helpless my ‘watch-er self’ watches
As it pulls me down deeper and deeper,
into the dark murky waters
Struggling for air,
as usual, all I could do was hide.
burrowing deep down,
I run away to the terrace.
I sit on the fence,
And feel the air on my face,
as I try to let it dry the evidence of the pain
to blow away any expression, that might have leaked
the ironmask, frozen in a chaging smile – now childlike, now sweet, now gurgling, now chirpy, now wise
inverted, its always a grimace, though
inside, there’s only hate: inverted love
unbidden, a phrase from linda goodman floats into my head
i smile at the naiively flambouyant drama of expressed awe:
the smooth steel of their heart, has been formed
in the 9 fires of scorpio wisdowm
like the phoneix, the burn themselves down
and they reform …
is there really healing,
in phoenix tears?
i dialled an SOS number
they always say later, if u had just dared to reach out …
the sounds bounce of the winds and the clouds
as the connection fails to form
with the dead line dangling from the phone in my hand
i realise there’s no one to call
a strange combination
of “there’s noone” & “there’s noone there, who I could bear”
i wish there was some way to wake u
and bring u out of my head
Now I am perched on the railing with my legs on either side
Its exciting – the thrill of being just at the edge …
Out of the blue a huge fire-cracker goess of from the neighbouring house
Startled, I almost fall
Then all is quiet
I run out of excuses
I sit in the rain for a while and go down
I have been here before;
Its a nasty kind of hell.
There are doors out
but snarling dragons at the threshold
and its flooded with the waters of lethe
so that u forget that you know how to fight them
u forget u can see through them
u forget they’re all just tricks and tests
later, curled up, i try to fall into myself
stay frozen, but its hard to stay empty
so the waters rise again. outside, the lightnings flashes
but the clouds have dried and died, and it still doesnt rain
i close my eyes and i think of lethe
now i could do with it
the legend says, when u will die
memory, wont let u want to live again
so that u can bear to, dare to, be reborn,
ur sent to the waters of Lethe
one of the 5 rivers of the underworld
lethe puts you to sleep
when u wake up, u have no recall
so once again, u want to live
Then in the morning, the sun is up again
Though so small, and so frail yet
It survived, atleast this night
I let go of a breath held back
And smile at my little child
She gurgles and laughs back.
I have great hopes for you,
if u can live out these storms
Maybe you will survive
I walk down to the garage
and then start off on my way to work
The radio sings Purple Rain
As we zoom out onto the highway
To my right, the salt water flats line the road
The sunshines, The wind blows and the clouds,
huge, white and fluffy,
hang over the water, way down low …
Originally Posted at http://prerona.blogspot.com/2006/07/sunday-rain.html
“>Prerona.
Chocolate Amer 
