How wonderful it is to watch that spot of bluish black dot of a cloud in the north-western sky gestating. In the wink of an eye it spreads over the whole sky. A cool breeze rises like a balm on our feverish skin that was about to blister in the sweltering heat. Rolling clouds, roaring wind determined to chop off the head of tall coconut palm trees begin their madness while with enormous fronds they stand their ground in the midst of torrential rain. My father says, ‘Aah…here comes our Nor’wester*’. We watch with bating breath, calculating how many green mangoes will fall so that we might collect later. Mother Nature is such an entertainer! She gifts us at least a peaceful, cool day through this storm in a week. The night is all jasmine. Their enchanting scent mesmerizes us. We don’t study for there’s power cut. No light. What delight! We don’t care about the fan for there’s a sweet zephyr. Ghost stories flow from grandpa.
This was long ago almost from a previous birth as it were. Nowadays there’s no Nor’wester. Nature grieves, fumes and we melt like brown candles. Heat is everywhere. Words like mortars fall on Facebook wall from neighboring countries.People feed each other with sly innuendoes.
White blossoms of night
Fill our minds with past fragrance
Peace is elusive
*Nor’wester is a stormy weather pattern in West Bengal and Bangladesh
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub – Haibun Monday #40 ~ Summer hosted by Grace
sumanar/lekha 