The month of August – Mallika Sharma, New Delhi


he scorching sun gets duller
While the lakes and rivers get fuller
The air is getting moist, while the skies are turning grey
The flocks of birds, with their water soaked wings seem to be thrown into disarray

While the temperature plummets to everyone’s respite
And children splashing around in water–filled potholes, usher in a visual delight
The city traffic is thrown out of gear
With the commuters wanting no one spared

And then come the intermittent dry spells
With joy my heart swells
The leafs washed fresh, couldn’t get greener
The yellow sun, in the clear blue skies couldn’t seem brighter

Time and again a rainbow appears
With all seven colors shown bright and clear
My heart jumps and wants to take flight
In the sky, along with many a flying kites.

At night, I hear the raindrops on my roof pound
Thundering, roaring and making many a different sounds
As a chill runs down my spine with fear
My mother takes me in her comforting embrace and helps me cheer

And there in the warm abode of my mothers arms
I dwell in peace and calm
Where even the roaring splashing of vehicles passing by
To my ears, seems like a soothing lullaby

As in the morning, out of my window I gaze,
Into the tranquil mist and haze
I wish for it to rain again
And again and again……….



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