I don't consider myself a poet; rather, I simply strive to put pen to paper by assimilating my real-life observations and then coloring them with themes like spirituality, nature, and romance. Here is an old situational metaphoric piece that I wrote while riding my work bus amid the chaotic streets of Bangalore on a day when I felt professionally worn out. So a saying goes: when all seems to be lost in a pool of chaos, it's only human tendancy to seek out some guiding beacon.
Location: A bus stop close to the Madivala Junction, Bangalore.
Time: at about six o'clock in some day of June of 2011.
The scene unfolds as a fairly attractive young woman waits at the bus stop. She appears weary from her job as an office worker and feels uncertain about whether she should be waiting for the bus or someone else. Feeling a little down; maybe it's just the long wait, who knows... Her anguish was effectively masked by her attractiveness, though. She grew frustrated and considered leaving the bus stop. The climate then possessed the good grace to change its attitude, which granted her relief. Heavy traffic, loud automobile noise, and an exceptionally humid mood eventually announced the arrival of several divine drops from the air. A small but delightful shift in her disposition occurred as a couple of drips caressed her face. A series of pleasant occurrences ensued as a result of that delightful interruption: a micro-measured spark lit up her eyes, her lips parted to reveal a beautiful grin, and she looked up into the sky in gratitude for every blessing she had received. Subsequently, she vanished behind a jam-packed bus and emerged as a charming source of inspiration for the following. So my role is being an observabt by being subjective witness of an event, crafted by a girl and a rain.
The poem's first half depicts the girl's drenched sentiments, while the second half conjures the romantic monsoon mood!
When I see those clouds moving,
I see her desperate run to her love...
When I see them composing,
I see her gathering all the strength to share her feelings…
When I see them as extremely dark,
I see her height of persistence not to love him…
When I see them lightening,
I listen to the loud fight of her emotions…
When I saw it start raining,
I see all bounds of her love are broken and a flood of feelings is out.
When I see the first raindrop kissing the hard,
I smell the pink fragrance of her beautiful love triumph.
*********
I see her staring at the sky, waiting for rain.
I see the desperation in the clouds to grant her wish.
When I witness her thirsty smile after a drop of water kisses her face,
I observe an increase in the cloud's intention to rain more heavily...
When I see her dancing in the rain,
I see the rain, eager to be her partner.
When I see a raindrop on her alcoholic lips,
I see that the other drops are jealous of not being there...
When I see her sad in the rain,
I witness the healing of thousands of divine drops, some salted, on her chicks.
