In remembrance of all the victims of the Chennai rains, and especially the 280 souls who lost their lives in it.
It robbed us of our breath, this rain,
Her thrash fierce but poised.
She dragged into wet knots hair,
And etched walnuts into fingers.
She carved into curved toes curious layers,
And filled with sad musk our minds and prayers.
The monster of mould crept and invaded
our underwear creases and linen linings,
Revealing all our rotten secrets,
For nature knows no bias.
In this rain every crevice drowned,
So we lived this rain
That had no time,
pouring beyond our worldly dimensions.
This living being; infinite, brazen,
She sobbed dark tears in to the ground,
And hounded waterfalls in to the earth;
The streets she bloated with ugly swells,
So to its surface rose human shame.
Flooding the world with what it deserved,
She pressed man’s knees to beg forgiveness
For daring to wield her elegant might
With his hand, so meek and feeble.
So for this heinous human insult,
Upon his palm,