Friday, May 30, 2008

When the Rain Gods Arrived



In the evening I opened the window and was struck by cool breeze on my face. Instantly an uncontrollable slender smile burst upon my face. The sky was adorned with dark, gloomy clouds ready to burst out anytime. So it was the arrival of yet another eagerly awaited monsoon.

I dressed up and went to the tea stall in the street. The stall has more visitors than usual. I took my favorite seat near the large window and ordered a tea. The breeze got cooler and the sky roared with gentle thunders. And there they arrived, my tea and the rain. I ran out with the tea cup in my hand to watch those magic moments of the arrival of monsoon. Black umbrellas opened up in the street and the showers played drums upon them. Ah, that beautiful divine music. A few people in the street without umbrellas ran into the tea stall to take shelter. The stall was filled with exciting conversations on the monsoon. I paid my bill and remained there watching the street and the rainfall.

A few minutes later, I slowly walked out of the stall into the rain. The feel of rain on my body was so heavenly; I was filled with immense joy. I walked back to my room happily drenched. My house-owner an elderly, respectable man sitting in his veranda questioned ‘Didn’t take umbrella?’. ‘It wasn’t needed’ I answered smiling. Opening my door, I again looked back at the rain and thanked God for bringing back the Monsoon Days.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Resting Souls

Be patient, weary body, soon the night
Will wrap thee gently in her sable sheet,
And with a leaden sigh thou wilt invite
To rest thy tired hands and aching feet.
The wretched day was theirs, the night is mine;
Come tender sleep, and fold me to thy breast.
But what steals out the gray clouds like red wine?
O dawn! O dreaded dawn! O let me rest.
.....
The Tired Worker - poem by Claude McKay

Thursday, May 15, 2008

Stolen Moment


I ne'er was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet.
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
And stole my heart away complete.

First Love - poem by John Clare

Follow by Email

When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence.
~
Ansel Adams

Followers

  © Free Blogger Templates 'Photoblog II' by Ourblogtemplates.com 2008

Back to TOP