A mighty July evening in my town….
Pouring rain, halogen lights and the ‘neon’,
Yellow cabs bark outside my window,
Across the confused street and beyond
– struggling umbrellas moving around,
water puddles, paper boats, funny children and the ‘neon’.
The neon – that glares out from moving headlights
and dances on the rain,
The otherwise Invisible Rain!
I watch the moving neon…
Sometimes caressing the trailing tram lines,
and sometimes caressing the Unknown.
I sit by my 50 year old balcony,
and listen to the dancing rain, in melancholy,
on an asbestos roof nearby,
that shelters humble souls and meagre appetite.
Across the road stand two Gothic pillars.
The British are bygone, but they have left behind these stellars.
They have now been renovated, of late.
They now stand painted blue & white. Earlier they used to be red.
I stretched my palm a little to feel the rain.
A sudden thunder rattled the North side window pane.
I took a piece of paper, scented and blue..
To write a letter of Love-
To an old friend of mine, worthy and so true.
A friendship that had withstood tests of time.
No matter what had come, at the end it was always fine.
Like an imperfect maiden, both sombre and sultry;
My friend chose more days of Chaos, than Mohan Bagan’s football victory.
But what a charming friend she is, beautiful and my very own
My love grows stronger each day for her, for My Kolkata, my town.
The rains will soon be gone.
She will emerge clean and strong!
Will wait for the October Drums!
I will wait for the Gaia song…