Before the Rain comes!

The wooden window touch its frame,

With a small tuck.

Crows start cowing,

One by one.

Like disciplined soldiers,

Who fire bullet on a terrorist tied with chain.

One by one.

Then I hear a bang,

And find my door shut,

Perfectly fit into its frame.

Though I apply extra force,

To pull and fit it into the frame.

I peep out through window,

And find guava and mango branches.

The shook and shook,

Forward and backward,

Left and right.

They dance like a young lady,

Who has just started going to dance class.

A hissing sound comes,

And its volume increases.

I look at the tall branches,

They are shaking more at some distance.

They dance like a trained dancer.

Smaller once, copying the bigger once.

Then I hear a patting sound,

And lean to see to the ground.

Ripe fruits are falling,

One after the other.

Like crows are talking,

One after the other.

A bang, louder this time,

The Main gate does it sometimes,

When the wind blows faster.

Squirrels begin singing.

More birds join them.

A parrot flies past my window shouting.

Like a warrior lady,

Who always fight with others in her streets.

I'm sitting in my chair,

With my legs resting on the bed,

In pain.

Two wounds have popped out.

One after another.

First, on the foot finger, was still healing,

Another pooped out of right buttock.

They want me to suffer,

As if I've hurt many good people.

Bed sheet swings,

Touch my leg with the healing wound.

It gives a velvety touch,

Pain dies for the moment.

I rise up,

Look around,

In great pain,

Switch off the ceiling fan,

To feel the cold wind.

The wind dies,

And humidity rejoins,

With its partner,

Heat.

Then I hear pat-pat-patting,

On the window shade.

Crows stop.

Squirrels run away.

No more noise comes from the doors,

And windows.

The rain comes,

Like a newly wedded bride,

Who enters into her husband’s home,

For the first time.

Proudly.