small memories of rain

small memories of rain

it's a midsummer’s night
i’m awake, filling my ears
with the intoxication of urdu poetry
and my soul is out, getting wet in the rain.


these days, it's raining everyday
between work and play with saanjh
i gaze out the window
and become wet with the falling rain.

muddy streams are running down my head
germinating raw thoughts
and unwritten poems grow like moss
all over me.


rains keep me awake all night
inviting my sleep to join it's raas with the earth and wind.
as i lay awaiting its return
i hear them sing and sway and faintly perfume the dark

and somewhere from that fragrant dark
thoughts, nimble and languid, come tiptoeing
and crowd inside me with their lyrics.
hours slither by.
and night softly melts into the kindling sun.

with lilting feet and a rain-drunken heart
my sleep returns to me at daybreak
but by then, i’m too full of untethered thoughts
to go to sleep.

. . .

saturday noontide
the twenty third


  1. So beautiful.. It leaves me wordless
    for I am entrenched in yours.

    1. this season has been so very special and awakening.
      drenched in it, i feel like a different person.
      thank you kindly for joining me here, and letting the poetry of rain inside you.

  2. i so much love your artistic vision and your words. i want to be more like you.

    it's raining here almost every day too. i wish i could soak it in to keep me peaceful and nourished through the long summer i know is coming.

    1. thank you so much for always, always, always leaving me soaked in your rain of words.
      as i'm writing here, summer must have already invaded your world.
      i hope you're still wet with all your memories of rain and otherwise too, may each day of summer come to your doorstep with its own poems and postcards.

  3. So, so exquisite, Niru, your words and images are a true pleasure to behold as always.

    1. your words feel very special, thank you dear priyanka.
      i'm equally immersed in all the foliage of your beautiful world.


let my thoughts come to you
when I am gone
like the afterglow of sunset
at the margin of starry silence
- rabindranath tagore -