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Nandini Sengupta

Of clouds, rain, and hope

Updated: Apr 1, 2022


Clouded grey sky,

Soft breezes

touching the petals,

vulnerable to breakage.

The pollens running away

in escapades,

to places undisclosed,

to narrate tales of

faraway places,

of secrets long kept

hidden and closed.

The raindrops

kissing your lips,

soothing your eyelids

as you close them.

Feathers of birds

drenched and cold,

scurrying for shelter;

they sing the song

of rain and cold.

The pelting sound

on the terrace,

leads to interrupted

sleep and dreams,

in sheets wrapped

around you.

Hectic schedule,

hurrying off

to bus stops and auto-stands;

the soft breeze is turning

to a swishing sound,

there might be

a thunderstorm and lightning

shaped like a Z.

The blue tarpaulin flips

up in the wind, and then

stretches down,

making a flapping sound.

The airplane emitting

buzzing sound,

leaving behind a trail

of smoke and memories alike.

Tapping sound of rain

on car windows

permeates clouded view

of denizens, walking

along the pavement

with faces hidden

under their umbrellas;

Facades of human nature

revealing in time

when the cloud disappears

from the sky.

I want to be lost

in places, faraway,

where dreams are woven

and fairies appear

even when Pandora

opens up her box.


@Nandini Sengupta





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1 Comment


SH
SH
Oct 31, 2021

I can smell the petrichor. Such words, such images... I'd pay to read you. An amazing writer. Learning a lot reading your stuff. Hoping your style seeps into my subconscious so that I too can create a fragment of such brilliance.


~abhay

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