Baarish

 

It starts raining outside.

I, rocking in a dilapidated creaky armchair till then,

a glass of whiskey in one hand,

the other arm lying prostrate on the chair-arm, eclipsing it fully,

Lose my trance and gain consciousness gradually.

Like sobriety is gained after a night of heavy drinking,

-the haze giving way slowly.

The soundtracks of Maachis play in the background.

Lata’s voice echoes majestically from the walls of the room-

“Paani paani re, khaare paani re, neendein khali kar ja”.

It comes and settles on me,

Like dust settles in a house bereft of humanity,

All pervading,

Loving.

Paramour”ly”.

It wants to give me a blanket till somebody else inhabits me.

I look outside the window pane,

Raindrops glisten against the multitude of lights that have strayed in from different infinities.

I stare at them- multihued beads coalescing with each other,

a blue bead with an orange one,

a dab of violet in yellow.

The resulting colour always a variation of black,

Or grey-it could best be that.

I stare at this spectacle for hours at a stretch,

Rocking,

Listening,

and Wondering- what went wrong.

We were destined to do this together one wet evening,

-sit for hours looking at coalescing raindrops,

fingers touching, caressing, separating alternately. 

You went up in smoke before all of that.