Sheets of rain flew around in the howling wind,
haphazardly thrashing bungalows and buildings –
not a bird in sight as mango, neem trees rustled
in the sounds of charcoal sizzling on a brick kiln.
Mid May heat sizzled – melting in frenzied rain
pouring on parched house-gardens and streets
as struck by a series of matchsticks of lightning
on emotionally ignitable houses coping isolation.
The thunder growled angrily on green mangoes –
frolicking with their crowns now a ripening gold:
as children going berserk at returning to school,
to curriculums they won’t dread after lockdown.
Our stray kitten, she was excitable this morning,
animals are connected to nature, unlike humans:
in fear she brought in her new-born the first time –
we shooed her, mistaking for a rat in her mouth.
But Minni wasn’t deterred – she dodged around
till we built her kitten the carpeted carton house:
even for a kitten – safety of her child is foremost
as she perceived oncoming of cyclone Amphan.
Evening sky is grey, with streaks of light flashing
on stringy coconut tree leaves dancing a cabaret –
atop terraces where we watced the Sun set gaily
in pink, tangerine – last two months in isolation.
Nature reminds us of its power in unique ways,
but where do we heed its whistle blower tactics?
until we’re pinned down to this complex distress,
of risking death in hungry lockdown or out of it.
PS: Wrote this poem on my phone last evening, sitting in the balcony – watching cyclone Amphan in Kolkata.
#cyclone #Amphan #poetry #distress #rain #sunset #balcony #coronavirus #lockdown #kolkata #nature’s wrath #literaryfictionauthor
This poem then later went into my 2nd book of poetry
Minni today after a year, in 2021: with her son Steven – from her 2nd set of 3 kittens, on the chair. The two who looked like her went missing after 6 months.