Your serenade makes the leaves twirl about,
Twirling and twirling and twirling
As if their feet just can’t stop dancing,
The blades of grass running across the ground,
In mindful chatter,
As if time is of the essence.
Where are you all off to?
With outstretched arms, trees reach up to be caressed,
Their fingers barely clasping around your tresses,
Their brittle branches falling off here and there,
You move on.
You move on, your voice bellowing,
Brushing up against windows, tapping on wooded floors,
Knocking over garbage cans and garden swings,
Whipping up hair, hats, and people.
They barely stood a chance.
Is this finally the start of Spring?
Hardly. Snow is on its way.
The best part of a foggy, wintry morning
in the rural parts around here is enjoying
freshly collected from the sap of date trees,
free of dust, noise, pollution,
A big thank you to baba (my father) who helped me understand the process of how the molasses were collected from the date palm trees. I knew molasses were being collected but it looks a tad bit different than collecting maple syrup, as I’ve read in Laura Ingall’s “Little House in the Big Woods”. The things you can learn from books 🙂 . Anyways, baba has experienced this before and he misses it quite a bit. Also a big thank you to Shoudho Bhaiya. When I actually saw you out there the other day, enjoying the very same thing I’m writing about, I just had to know what your experience was like 🙂
After what seemed like forever, thunder, dragging his feet, roamed off to somewhere distant, roaring and calling. And just like that, the clouds parted and let the sun peek through, as her light caressed everything she touched.
》》》 I don’t know why it took me so long to post this. It was just lying in my drafts folder for 1.5 years. Maybe I wanted to add to it more or maybe I just didn’t have the time to post it. Well…it’s here now. Maybe, just as this poem depicts, we’ll get a break from this dreary rain and see some sun this weekend 😊.
I wanna go back 😭. I spent the first six years of my life here. This specific window led to my grandmother’s tiny garden. Every once in a while she would have it opened to tend to the plants. We both would stand on this side of the window watching the plants being watered or the guavas being picked from the guava tree. Thank you ammu for opening this gate for me that day. The rain, the atmosphere, and the vehicles on the street both heightened my emotions and brought back many beautiful memories. I am going to cherish this moment forever. And thank you for keeping dadi’s garden flourishing all throughout the years ❤️❤️, even though it has changed quite a bit…. the jackfruit tree has gotten smaller and the guava tree is no more. Even in dadi’s absence, I feel her presence every time I’m here 😌.
The heat is constantly running yet the house is freezing cold. The house sways and creaks to the wind’s battering.
In love with this type of rain 😍😍