In Poetry on January 23, 2012 at 10:17 pm

When infinite drops of rain have drenched you
and your soil pregnant with the smell of earthly wetness,
When your leaves take life
and stir the senses with the vigor of a tropical green,
When the thousand muddy streams
have furrowed deep pathways through the forest
making their way into the distant sea,
When the persistent cry of the crickets
has captured the soul of the homebound farmer so-
he is troubled to wake to the sudden silence of the night,
When a smile lights up the urchin’s unassuming face
as he floats a paperboat on the nascent rivulet,
When his boat struggles and steadies, moves ahead
if weak is consumed by the current,
When the old diaries have soaked in cartons
and the ink blotched on yellow paper
and the words lose meaning or assume something new,
When the child has fingered his first syllable
on the moist panes of the window
the word becomes his and so the dew,
When homes have been carried away
and the waters have snuffed lives that exist only in thought,

When the change talked about is yet to arrive
And the cold indifference of this age finally defeats
your spirited soul:
Only then will I return, a last time
To be with you one’s more.


While pursuing her dreams in Hyderabad, Ananya Mishra finds herself going back time and again to the sunny terraces of her home in Sonepur by the Mahanadi. Apart from meeting dreaded deadlines and laughing aloud with friends, she loves to be alone to read novels and write stories.


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