Nostalgic Rain


Go! Drench yourself in the rain

These drops are not of water

But of memories

Late and distant.

Let thunder be the tune of past

And lightning be your flashback

Until you return

As the droplet leaves you

And mixes with the soil beneath.



Sleep does not come anymore
Its been a few days.
It seems I sit on my particolored bed sheet,
The bed is gone
But the sheet is exactly where it was.
It holds the throat together
Which just wants to burst in pain,
With every gulp I swallow a tank.
My eyes are peppered,
My nose is a river,
I wish I could but swim.
My father never let me,
He would catch hold of my hand
And say, “Why don’t you study instead?”

I’m studying now dad!
It is four dongs on my table-clock,
I can feel the light outside
Rising before the sun can wink,
The cock has crowed,
Sleep has not come.
I am floating on my particolored bed sheet,
I don’t know how to swim,
I can’t even see your hand!
Or is it just the weather here
And my cozy little room?
I’m so lazy
I don’t even want to swim anymore.

Rainy Lullaby

It is about to rain.
Washing down my sleepiness,
The rain will wake me up.
I’m still asleep,
But I can hear
The thund’rous parley
Like a whisper,
Her lips by my left ear,
A wake up call
That won’t last forever.

It is raining now.
The rain has washed my wakefulness,
Now it sings a lullaby –
A deep, impinging, stinging note,
To drowse my thoughts in dreams.
Where it is about to rain,
The rain will wake me up.


The day is done for the day.
There’s no sun, there’s no moon,
No stars, no clouds, no hues,
Just blaring horns and chirping birds
And screeching monkeys climbing walls.
A few flies and mosquitoes fly,
One bites me in my arm.
I’m studying drama
By the fading light
By the window
The light sinks as my pen moves
And yet its there –
A dark light,
Which dilates my pupils on the pages.
My message tone, my torn headphone,
All indiscernable
In the black box of a room I’m in.

The light is done for the day,
The windows are banging shut,
The maid above calls for the evening tea,
But still I can see!
How can I see?
In this fading light,
In this transient light of a day?
Its blue –
My pages are, Faustus too,
And so my ink.
I’m waiting for the blackness,
But only darkness graces me.
I want Black.
Black as my room, my guitar case,
Black as my roommate’s beard
Black as my heart.
The day is dying,
I wish I was Gray,
But I am black, and yet I see,
The light is still there.