Down it came, but why

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12/03/2016 by Siddiqui Fayesal

I sit still for a few quiet moments
And train my ears towards
The slight pattering
Sound.

It’s the end of February,
And it’d be a big
Deal if it was here already.

My swelling heart,
I say,
Stay still.
I sit absolutely still
For longer than I thought
I could.

All I wanted was to
Run amok; to leave the confines
Of the now claustrophobic
Room and feel it
Against my face.

But, like a voluminous nimbus,
Not unlike the one sweating
Outside probably, doubts
Serenade and dig trenches
Deep.

A guest without an invite,
No matter how dear, mostly
Broke the delicate balance
Of our lives.

They make us dance with pleasure, sure;
They make us scream with glee
And break our soporific routine,
Sure.

Their leaving still simmers
The heart, quietens it into
A calmer place.

After all, at the end of it all,
You could be doing something
Else.

Probably better!

So Is it still and
Acknowledged it not.
For, to give a salute would
Be wrong on principle.

What if it made it a habit?

So, I sit quiet.

Ignoring it till it went
Away. As if to mock me it
left behind a coolness
Unknown for
February.

I gulped down the tremors
Of sadness and tell myself
That the sudden chill
Is that of a thundering
Enemy throwing icy daggers
And not that of a kiss of a
Tired lover.

I sit quiet and forget the
Contentious affair.

Siddiqui F.
(29.02.2016)

NB: Wrote it in Agripada, CCD. It is a rain poem. I don’t remember now, but it was either because I was missing it, which I shouldn’t have, in February at least, or because it had rained that day in the morning. It did rain in the immediate vicinity of teh date. So, either this was scarily predictive, or just an entry of the untimely drizzle.

 

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