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Monday, June 28, 2010

Onset



“Rains”, she thinks, looking out of the window, as the city scene passes her by at twenty four frames per second. The bus weaves through crowded streets, making its way to the final bus stop now, a few final passengers waiting to get off. It creakes and clanks through scorched potholes and dusty neighborhoods filled with sun burnt, sweaty people. She sits on the window seat, still looking out, with just one single thought crowding her head; Rain.

The summer heat is finally driving her up the wall. The summer in this country is supposed to last longer than most places. This city, especially, has to face the season a lot longer, thanks to all the pollution, chopped down trees, messed up weather balance and what not. As a result, the city has been smoldering. The pitch on the edges of the road is starting to turn squelchy and sticking to the soles of the hapless pedestrians, refusing to let go like a long forgotten breakup. All the ‘metal’; the railings, vehicle skeletons, fences, steering columns, can hardly be touched, without scalding your palm. The tempers are flaring too. She almost has had a couple of altercations in the day and is hoping she wouldn’t be pushed to the edge.

A man looks at her through the window. He is sun burnt, to the point of an ill fated cookie. He stands there looking at her, wearing a pair of worn down shorts and a vest with a sprinkling of holes of assorted sizes. He is staring right at her, and she doesn’t know what to do. He continues staring till the bus passes out of his line of sight. She knows he still stands there, sunburnt, sweat on his forehead, frizzle haired, barefoot. She doesn’t feel agitated anymore; she only feels sorry.

She is still thinking about the word, but now her thoughts are a lot more…tangible. They are almost like a real thing; throbbing, rotating, twisting and turning like a kaleidoscope mural. She looks up to see the sky slowly take on a leaden look. A soft wind, almost secretive, slowly begins to blow, stirring the leaves and other strewn debris into little circles of dancing dust. A few more passengers get off, while the last of the bunch look up at the sky with a marked expression of relief.

Her stop is now approaching. Silent streaks of lightning are tearing across the skies. A few lazy potbellied drops of rain start falling, kicking up microscopic swirls of parched earth. She has a little smile playing on her lips now. She gets off the bus and heads to her apartment. She is standing in front of her door now. She looks back for one final time. “Rain!” she shouts and gets in, closing the door behind her, as the rains come streaming down, washing the summers away for another year.

[Written as an application to the sultry summers, hoping that they get the cue.]

19 comments:

Avanish said...

Well connected..

Awesome metaphors used :)

Purva said...

hope the cruel summer is reading!!

Ganga Dhanesh said...

that was a lovely read..."potbellied drops of rain"....exquisite!

arpita said...

I so hope Mr Sun gets the clue: it's time to give clouds way now...

Aman Rayjada said...

this is the first post I've read of yours.

I liked it.

your imagination makes it a great read!

AshenGlow said...

Oh how i thank God that you write mithun.... How i thank God.. :)

Sodden ;),
The Crab

Cinderella said...

The best part about your writing are your narratives, they are not forced, are not fake, are provoking, piercing and fantastically juxtaposed with the aptest lexis.

Loved this.

Nikita Banerjee said...

Can rain drops be potbellied? Sigh you open up so many perspectives! :)

sulagna ™ said...

eyii you know you are not supposed to crib abt summer, since w eboth know how jamshedopur is...ohh how homesick am i..i can do anything for a chily chicken at Franks and some mishti doi fro sonari D road :( :(

eehaa..mukherjee!!! mukherjee!! aar ki chaai ???

sulagna ™ said...

eyii you know you are not supposed to crib abt summer, since w eboth know how jamshedopur is...ohh how homesick am i..i can do anything for a chily chicken at Franks and some mishti doi fro sonari D road :( :(

eehaa..mukherjee!!! mukherjee!! aar ki chaai ???

sulagna ™ said...

eyii you know you are not supposed to crib abt summer, since w eboth know how jamshedopur is...ohh how homesick am i..i can do anything for a chily chicken at Franks and some mishti doi fro sonari D road :( :(

eehaa..mukherjee!!! mukherjee!! aar ki chaai ???

lakeviewer said...

Oh my! You do have a gift to share. Thanks for stopping by my Italian for Beginners. I have two other blogs where I write more regularly, in English. But hey, if Italian is on your radar, vai a leggerlo!

I'm a beginning writer,btw. I appreciate weavers of words.

ash89 said...

that was really well written... i liked how u compared tar with a breakup! :P

Scribblers Inc said...

avanish: Thank you so much my man! Keep your criticism pouring in!

Purva: Guess it did! Its finally cloudy in Delhi! :)

Ganga: Hello ol' reader friend! Glad you liked it! :)

Arpita: Its done! Mr Sun is finally on a vacation!

Scribblers Inc said...

Aman: Hey! Welcome to the blog! Do come by again and lemme know how you find it! :)

Ashenglow: Aw ashen...people like you Totally make my world go round...thank you so much!Big hug! :)

Cinderella: you tripped in after a while! How have you been?

Nikita: Oh they always are! Especially when they start in the beginning of the season! You jusst gotta look! :)

Scribblers Inc said...

Sulagna: Hola! Did you get your hands on any of the mishti doi? Pass it around please! :P

Lakeviewer: Thank you for coming by! Glad you like the place...If I end up learnin italian...It would be, thanks to you! :)

ash: Haha...each to his or her own! And yes, quite a personal perspective!:)

Ashmita said...

Loved the language :)

Zlaek said...

You always had words. I knew it ever since I read you for the first time (about a year back?) And almost always, I took personal offense to how you used them.

I can safely confirm, right now, that this is the best piece of fiction of its kind I've read in a long long time, if not the very best I've ever read. It is physically, emotionally and spiritually stimulating. You, my friend, are a writer; it brought out the best in me, as a reader.

Nomad said...

:D

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