Friday, April 1, 2011

Rain dance

I opened my eyes to the lashing waves growing in unison,
syncing somewhere, to the calls of it's long lost waters.
They crashed, livid,  on the rocks jagged in it's shape,
not caring enough if it'll hurt, not bothering if it'll kill.
The azure spread ahead, merging with lines I couldn't see,
throwing about grey blotches of clouds, mizzling against the skin of my arms.
I stood rooted, under a pavilion ancient, taking it all in,
sights I saw and the sounds I heard.
Sea brought with her, winds so loud,
singing a song I had never heard before,
blowing into my ears secrets I haven't known so far,
telling me to get out and see all that I've missed.
I saw the music travel through the blues and reaching the black I wore,
which, held the drops of the misty drizzle concealed,
as the afternoon sun refused to show..
throwing at me a wash of blue and light, at my face.
I stood there against the slapping drizzle through the small marquee,
trying to pull me out, and away from the diary and a pen,
while I stood rooted looking at the foam hit the rocks,
staying on still until air broke it's soul..Staying..
until he beckoned me out.
Beckoned me out to listen to the tune of the wind,
the joy of rain and the price of the sight I saw..
He beckoned me out. Out of what I thought and held.
I flipped the diary on the granite table so wet,
and walked out into the open to hold his hand.
How long we were each other's hands I barely know,
how long we talked in hushed whispers, I never reflected.
His words reaching me in, one word a time,
one syllable stretching into echoes into the empty mind he recreated.
I clung to his shoulder in completeness, dancing to the whisting winds,
and the beating waves on the sands hidden, beneath travelling wetness.
 The moistened air held me to him, his hand gluing us together,
as he made me realize what I had just stared at for so long.
Terpsichore, it felt like, all elements bringing him to me,
as he further wet my lips, the call singing like an unknown force,
not to be heard, but to be felt. To be electrocuted with.
 I danced and danced, until my legs became too tired to stop,
I closed my eyes to take in the moment I had lived through,
to breathe and feel his smell upon my neck,
I closed my eyes to him, for that one moment, outstretching my hands,
to welcome him to reality. To feel the wetness seep through my skin.
An eon passed as I opened my eyes to see the agaze of my friend,
a smile on her lips, a question in her stare.
I ran into the shelters, grabbed my diary and ran downstairs.
Not looking back. Not looking up.
But only the ground, because it kept my feet fixed to the earth.
Not like him, making me fly.

This was my entry at Saarang Writing Awards 2013


  1. Hey subashinee! :)
    thanks man :) glad, truly.

  2. You're a romantic poet if I've ever met one :) and this is a lovely piece...but was the man real? Or something created by her mind which was consumed by the ocean? Did she perhaps see the man as a personification of the sea in her imagination? Was she feeling the wind as the arms holding her, the spray as the lips kissing her? Was it the breeze that whispered those words into her ear until she woke from the dream?

  3. Hi surya! Romantic poet :-) thanks a ton.
    I always think poetry is about perception of one's own mind. My fav english teacher always used to say that there is an interpretation, with every single reader. And you have yours.
    What do you think of imagination? I think it's romantic! Man, in thoughts is real. But how she sees him there, is in the girl's head. She has surpassed reality to see him there. But again, where did he vanish? :-)
    She didn't dream. She saw it happen. Only, it didnt happen. Yet, it all did. Love is a paradox :P


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