The earth gets stuck for a minute.
The clouds are still.
The water loses its ripples.
The rain draws a graph across space.
The waves are frozen up.
For a minute, let it be.
Its 11.59 am.
November 4, 2011.
This is Chennai.
Its raining out…
The sparkles glittering in the dark
one by one piercing the corridor of vision.
My face gloomy, eyes longing for a distant vision,
yet enjoying the rain…
My mother is in Cochin-
she is turning back from the stove
which has a fish curry boiling.
To her left is the right part of an opened window
displaying the soft showers.
She never listens.
My father is out in the road.
His right hand on his head.
He peeps into the dark blanket in the sky.
The rain till the half way to the earth.
My brother staring at the screen of the computer
that had a visual of a Kerala rain.
His hands tied at the back to support the head
His thoughts are of those dear faces far away…
There is only the rain of rememberance in Oman.
The tear extends the oval shape in his right eye.
My husband amidst the road block with the rain
beating the handle of the car
overflown with frustration.
The rain is for him an obstruction in his path.
The thought is to call his wife.
A baby touches a hand on earth
for the first time, and is convinced.
Lips parting for a cry.
A rain waits in his eyes.
Another baby breathes its last in the womb
unknown to his mother.
The soul stretches out.
A rain waits outside the theatre.
Rest in peace!
Birth and death laugh at each other
through the space of life
in the same surgical room.
A girl ends up writing her suicide note
with the last words
“Love you appa, amma, and my love…”
The paper had watermarks imprinted.
The signature of her last rain.
Her father overjoys with her marriage fixed
and calls the rain a good omen.
Her mother waits for the news
thinking that the rain blocked his way.
Hearts are filled with varied shades.
Chaos does the water colouring.
The same location.
The old couples with tight hands
awaiting a drop in their homeland
seated at the tail end seat of the flight.
Young couples just married
about to reach their kiss to each other
getting seated in the front.
Ahead of them,
the pilot with scattering fear
tries to regain its control
that was lost in the heavy rain.
Jet airways is still in the air.
The earthquake cracks the ground floor
of the tall apartment.
The first floor gets the tilt,
the second gets the shake,
the third gets the light crack
but all is well in the thirtieth
with windows closed to the rain,
where the kid is having her noodles
in front of her favourite show- ‘Tom and Jerry’.
The magic screen showed me these visuals
that are probabilities of a single minute.
Round the world in a second,
with the thirst for my favourite stills.
The strain of imagination closes my eyes.
Now the chances are like
many people do this same act now,
many do have my same name,
many do wear my same costume
in this same second!
Who all think of me and who all hate me with that!
Is someone planning to give me a message of thought?
Is anyone watching my picture now?
Is anyone reading my words, frowning here and there,
in this very same second?
Someone may be typing a word for me…
Some other may be deleting my name from their contacts…
Some may be talking about me in another corner…
Some other may be wondering about who I am!
The same second! A wink of an eye!
Yes! In this single second…with high probability!
This second is minute, than a minute,
but the spark gave me fragments of revelation.
And the second is split into a hundred thoughts-
visuals showing up as apparitions.
One second has a whole life in it-
from birth till death and even beyond.
Still, the light for the next second
is on the way to the earth!
Let the clockhands move now.
It strucks twelve.
The next part of the day is in.
What I am sure is that
I have grown up
a little more than the last minute!