Monsoon And My Dreams

Jayanta Oinam *

They said, finally Monsoon is here
In its full glory, clouds wrapping dreams
Blood sweet raindrops, and ever opening arms
Of lovelorn souls, with occasional echoes
Of names lost in waiting game of meetings and promises.

I too knew Monsoon, for its date with dreams
I too loved Monsoon, for its grandeur of royal reception
I too wait for Monsoon, as my heart is parched, and
I wanted to soaked myself, the soul and body
With the raindrops distilled from the sky above
So that my tear never ran dry in this abandoned desert
I wanted those raindrops to hit my bare chest
So that it bore another well of summer springs, in my heart
I wanted this earth to embrace the Monsoon
So that the grave that laid evident to her innocence is wet again
And I could smell her sweat, drenched with tender remembrance!

They said, Monsoon has arrived
And everybody walks beside me
Leaving me behind in my own trail
They said, Monsoon has indeed arrived
And they all talked about me, looking at my hollow being
And blamed me for the reason, of Monsoon being late
In a land of dreams and continue talking:
Every July, somebody will cry and the poor Monsoon
It changes its course in depression, thinking:

"What do I do looking at the tears, in fact
I have no match for tears
Tears have silent wishes, and
My thunder and lightning, and they fade;
Tears are trifle and petite, but
My torrid downpour only caused floods of desire and
I got the blame of having a merciless despondent
But the tears, every single drop carries warmth of the heart;
And, tears don't dry even if I have to wait for a seasons!"

They said, this time Monsoon is fair to us
I continue to dream in closed room
Trying to feel the life in her lifeless body!