The Boy of Tidings

It is still dark in the city as the sun was yet to wake up at the horizon from his deep slumber late last evening. It seemed he was tired of peeking through the clouds brought about by a cyclone that had ravaged many a southern state and was still streaking to conquer uncharted territories on the Indian west coast trying to make a landfall before it died down. The Ockhi cyclone had made a surprise appearance at the southern tip of India and  churned the Indian ocean and the Arabian sea much to the horror of coastal towns and villages and had played with the lives of the fisherman community who had travelled the high seas during the last few days. Though it ran shy of the indian coast so far, the wind  the churning waves and the rain had in its grip the towns of Kanyakumari, Nagercoil, the Kerala coast and had ravaged Lakshadweep islands, the damage of which is still to be known.

ockhi
Pic Courtesy: The Hindu

The newspaper boy had already started his work near one of the many bus stops in the city, trying to sort out the many news papers and magazines that he need to carry across to homes to those news hungry and elderly people who would wait for him for happy tidings as he would swirl the newspaper at them from a safe distance. He still had a good aim to reach somewhere near their outstretched hands, as if it was a offering from the gods at dawn.

But today, the winds and the slight rain had made his job difficult. Navigating his cycle through the pools of water on the streets from the overnight rains, he had to go and find out a dry stretch on the steps of each house where he could safely deliver the paper full of news that should not be drenched while his eager readers this day decided to stay within the safe confines of their home instead of looking out to welcome him.

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Running late, he saw the morning sun after so many days in his distribution work. The  sun with a mighty effort had finally gathered himself and had started his journey across the still cloudy skies. As he looked down, the only movement he could detect was a tiny boy braving the cold windy weather going to each home with a sheaf of papers…

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Kera Kerala

The land of coconuts ( Kera for coconut) . No wonder some of us drive others nuts or ourselves go nuts.

That said, it is still a great place.

Currently am here on vacation, the weather being hot, not surprising though as Indian summers are always simmering.  I plan to come back here for good in the month of May before the monsoon arrives 🙂

Please have a look and like my page on facebook listed below:

https://www.facebook.com/sunithkollara/

Photo below is from my native home at Thrissur.

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Home is where the heart is

 

Rain Series

A group of clouds came from nowhere
filled with water, they turned to a shower
it is rainy days here again, remarked some
kids left their games and did a rain dance
whatever was left to dry now taken inside
whatever needed to be wet was put outside
the rain drenched and washed the stench
bringing its own perfume that was earthen.

The clouds could now be seen fast receding
a child looked up to see them now flying away
what other task you have, to go soon so fast
please stay and pour some more water on us
to our hearts fill and to fill our pots and wells
No dear, we have other places to water well
and we better not be late, whispered the cloud
as he sped away to catch up with the others…

Clouded Vision

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Pic Credits: Indianlifestylez

The kid on the balcony was looking out at a bunch of twigs on fire
apart from that, what would enliven her otherwise sultry afternoon?
the cool wind gushed through the trees dousing out the feeble fire
people started hurrying, sun scampering, as the place turned dark.

She looked up wondering what was it that caused it, an eclipse?
her sight met dark clouds now gathering fast from all quarters
full of moisture, laden by weight, not knowing if they could continue
or should they stop awhile and lighten their load of life giving water?

In full array, they came and converged in a circle around the place
it would now rain at any moment, the girl thought, with sheer joy
She ran down the  stair rails to enjoy the first rain of the season
the monsoon had arrived with all paraphernalia, ready to deliver.

The streak of lightening greeted her as her feet touched the ground
thunderclaps resonated notifying that the act was about to start
army of clouds now started to pour their oblations upon the place
this ritual always appeared in time to drench her, so she thought…

When it rained

The fields would sway to the wind

the children in trains waving back.

The tides would get back their surf

the farmers too engrossed in work.

When the rains hit us days on

it made pools of watery slush.

The mud would entrance the kids

who would make pots with the clay.

The sun would peep in on the dew

so that the grass could retain the shine.

The grasshoppers would jump in joy

crickets playing the game of life.

The butterflies were very choosy

as to which flower they would sit.

This made it difficult for us to catch

by reading their minds in tiny heads.