And rain came.

As day brightened, folks went indoor. A homeless old lay on the pavement. Crumpled. On concrete. Below a tap. Dry. Eyes closed. A stench. From a distance. She stirred. And a child wailed. From a house. She stirred. Opened her eyes. With labour. Her eyes dry. She wiped her lips. With her tongue. Dry. She stared. At the tap. Dry. Vacant. With feeble hands. She held the tap. And shook. From a window. A child gazed. She cursed. The child laughed. A cloud appeared. On a blue sky. Another cloud. Another. And soon. First drops of rain fell. The child laughed. Laughed. Laughed. Rain fell. Tup. Tup. Tup.

A bird and her friend

A bird. In her cage. She made no sound. Not chirped. Nor tuned. It sat in silence. Watching clouds. Leaves. Grass. From a cage. How the other birds whistled. How they tuned. This bird in cage sat in silence. How they tried to make her sing. She just remained silent. As night fell. All retired to bed. With still quietness all around, the bird sang. Soft. Song of a flight. A journey. Far away. She sang a melancholy song. To herself. With silence. Her audience. Her friend.

A Joker in Paradise.

A joker died. In a town. Little children cried. Loud. Picnics were cancelled. All retired home that day. Early. From offices. From playgrounds. From colleges. A joker died. A town cried. In emptiness. Next morning, the joker was cremated. They all came home from the cremation ground. Sad. Shaken. Remembering the joker. His lips painted. From Paradise the Joker watched. And wept. In happiness. In sadness. In loneliness. A rainbow spanned the town’s sky on a cloudy day.

A lonely Dog

Three boys and two girls. Ran around on green grass. In a park. Dodged swings. Jumped over puddles. In bright dresses. Every afternoon. And a dog watched. From inside a pipe. Dark. Hollow. And barked. Soft. Loud. As boys and girls. Jumped. Played around. On green grass. In bright dresses. On summer afternoons. The dog chewed. Nothing. And cried. At all the happiness. Around. Then darkness fell. Children disappeared. The dog came out of the hollow. Wandered around. And came back to his pipe. And slept. In his dream. He saw three boys and two girls play. He cried. In sleep. In his dream. At his loneliness.

Music of a summer noon

Far away where the street bends. There is a house. Lemon yellow. With red tiles. It stands. A green grass lawn. With bougainvillea plants. Hither thither. And as a weary soul passes by. The house understands. It sings a song. Melodious. For the weary soul’s respite. Souls come weary. And leave happy. Standing in front of the house. Winds carry news. Of a white red tiled house. And streams of weary soul line the street. The house sings. One day when all songs are sung there are no more weary souls. The house stands. Not sure. What next. Till a happy soul says. “Now take some rest.” And happy souls sing. As a house rests.

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