Summer and Rain

She loved the summer,

for she could be with them,

far from the noise,

live in the pace of her choice,

mangoes, jackfruits,

grandparents, and cousins.

Swings, and hide and seek,

sweaty nights  but sound sleep.

He hated the summer,

for he couldn't be with her,

in the after-class bus rides,

and rain-soaked mud-fights.

Cutting chai and pakodas,

umbrella twirls and paper boats.

Her rant about rain-soaked clothes,

sprint before the next big pour.

She loved the summer,

for she could be with them,

but she longed for the rains,

so she could be with him.

Rant about the rain, but

see his glinting eyes in rain,

rain-soaked clothes- yet,

splash the muddy water.

‘Cause she knew he hated summer,

for he couldn't be with her.

So she longed for the rain,

as he longed for her train.

In between their longings,

came the first rain roaring.

Earth was also longing,

for a drench, a scent, a feeling.

As the rain kissed the soil,

came a scent for the souls,

caught in time, caught in past,

caught in hopes for a future.

Now she’s in a bustling train,

he's in a cabin in the woods.

Grey skies are hinting at rain,

dead  soil’s hoping for it good.

Now they love the petrichor,

both souls trapped in the past.

Now they hope for petrichor,

as it keeps their hopes alive.

~october 2023

(wrote for IICM auditions)