Friday, October 07, 2011

Childhood Hailstorm

The first hailstorm hit my home when I was five. The clouds darkened like elephants, herding the holidaying children inside the veranda's  moulded mud-pillars. Asudden rain showered down with a clap of thunder and muffled thuds on our thatched roof. Suddenly, hail flew down and too much of Bible, I thought it's  the manna from the sky. We didn't know if we should take cover in the veranda or snatch those melting icicles from the ground. My grand mother kept an eye, so that children wouldn't run out and partake in the manna raining from the sky. I thought it was a spectacle, but my brother told me its natural, from his encyclopedic knowledge. As usual, I believed him with the mistrust of the younger, wilder, more imaginative ones. By the time air thinned down from rain and announced normalcy, we gathered our wits to go out and gather the hail, they had already melted. Some friends were still huddled in the corners of  the veranda, like frightened owls, eyes almost popping out of fear. They said this was the prelude to the next bad thing, next would be much worse. After melting manna, it would be locusts and frogs. A precocious voice told me that, the first childhood hailstorm could be experienced in many different ways: for some it would be scary, for me it was exciting, for my brother it was a normal cycle in which nature worked in the tropics. Only my grandmother, in her most diligent ways, kept the most cautious eye on us.

Tuesday, October 04, 2011

Loving you...

Loving you
is like walking
on a sheet of ice,
if I assert
you will crack,
if I fumble
I will slip;
If I wear my shoes
you will be hurt,
If I am barefoot
I will be walking
on cold crystal needles.

If I speeden up
then you may melt,
If I slacken
I will freeze
and fall behind.
It's a game of
fighting and relenting,
competing and giving up,
loving and hating...
Loving you is more an
adventure
than just a feeling alone.

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