Of Rains and Rain-Soaked Poems: Dolly Singh
Council Member Dolly Singh enthrals us with her thoughts on the monsoon, infused with some beautiful rain poetry.
This July has been battered by the fury of Rain Gods. The videos that are viral on social media and TV channels are rather alarming. Places submerged, broken dams, cars floating like paper boats, and more!
Poets write about the rain, which is soothing. The imagery they create is calming and healing. Yes, the sound of raindrops that hits your rooftop or your window panes is undoubtedly the best music you would have heard. But the heart goes out for the ones who face the cruel side of rains.
Monsoon has always been my favourite season – for all moods and reasons. The poet in me revels in its romanticism. The sad-sweet emotion of missing your beloved, the craving to be near him. Why does rain make some people sad!? Yes, why does rain evoke that emotion? Well, a poet knows better.
The audacity of rain
As it kisses my cheek in your presence
Tiny droplets tease my hair,
Daring you insolently!
The rambling of rain drowns your voice
As you talk non-stop
Of mundane things
The thunder roars
Somewhere
Displaying the passion
I find missing in you!
Rains infuse life in the greens scorched from the intensity of summer. If plants could smile, this is how they would look.
When bulbuls and hornbills perch on a frangipani tree on my terrace and sing melodiously, I know I couldn’t love any other season more than the rainy season.
Times and times I waited for this.
The beak is dry, dry! Everything is so dry!
Perched on,
Looking at the clouds above,
Hoping for a tinge of darkness,
My soul whispered the
Hornbill song in your ears.
Yet sometimes, my heart and mind, out of sync,
refuse to dance to the tune of the rains
I watch the wanton rain, and
its shameless, unrestrained passion,
and refuse to be drawn
in its wicked game.
The harangue of clouds,
the fury of thunder,
try with their might
to intimidate me,
mocking my nonchalance,
fail miserably.
And yet again, from another rain-soaked poem…
Steadily, it poured as the rainbow arched
But my heart still felt parched.
Images imagined, far, yet near
Is that you or the hum of rain I hear?
Another rainy spell goes dry!
Longing to have you nearby.
Lamenting the downpour
I stood forlorn!
Yet, I don’t see kids rushing out to dance in the rain like I used to do in my childhood. The absence of paper boats and friendly puddles almost makes the monsoon incomplete. The diet-conscious generation has stashed the kadhai somewhere, and no longer does the sound of pakoras gliding in hot oil incite one anymore. But then, what is a rain-soaked day without pakoras, ginger tea, and steaming hot Maggi!?
Why curb your cravings when there is so much to enjoy!
This brings me to another thought – have we stopped enjoying the little pleasures of life and borrowed the stress of everyday life? The stress of keeping well and fit, stress of meeting deadlines, stress of saving relationships!
Why are we, in that case, even living!?
Let me conclude with lines from another rain poem.
You owe me a rainy day!
Steadily, it poured as the rainbow arched
But my heart still felt parched.
Images imagined, far, yet near
Is that you or the hum of rain I hear?
Another rainy spell goes dry!
Longing to have you nearby.
Lamenting the downpour
I stand forlorn!
Hope to run into you on a rain-drenched afternoon. Till then, much love!
Dolly Singh