Raindrops on Paper

Raindrops on Paper

 Sitting on the balcony, watching the distant sea go gray and mist over,

 The rains are approaching.

The dark clouds are scurrying over

 A gust of wind, raindrops splattering on my face, my glasses get cloudy

 A slight shiver, it’s chilly.

The vision is blurred, I’m getting wet

 I’m going back to other rains, other places, blurred now, misted by time;

 Dancing on the terrace, with my babies, in their chaddhies

Dragging their reluctant mom as well, and once, their grand mom

 Who was just waiting to be called, so as not to seem unseemly?

 Or further back, schooldays, splashing in the dirty waterlogged streets

 Soaking wet, jumping in joy in puddles, splashing others,

School is closed; it’s a “Rainy Day!

”Adolescence, crouching under a balcony, waiting for a bus,

 Sharing an umbrella, wishing the bus never comes

 Later, leaving the auto to walk on the beach in the rain

Making an excuse that we couldn’t get any rickshaws

 Later still, on a hilltop in Himachal, caught in a thunderstorm,

 Soaked to the bone, my little baby on my shoulder,

 Holding the hand of the older child, running to find shelter,

 Cursing the idea of trekking with kids

 Then, sheltered in a little hut by a fire

, Wrapped in the owners dirty old blanket

Thinking of what a great adventure we’ve had!

Another rain; graying now, me and my wife

Getting soaked in our driveway, refusing to go in

 Neighbors’ comment- married people don’t behave like this

 Now my babies have grown up and flown the nest

 The childhood memories- shadowy like figures in the rain

 My companion of so many rains- occupied by her own life and work

 I stand alone in the wind, the spray wetting my face

 Washing away traces of any other moisture