On the beach, the day before the rains...

'Monsoon will be here tomorrow,' the Met Dept said.
It's late. Maybe the early May showers left it spent.
The schoolkids' new books and shoes should be drying
Under the fan on the dining table. Those are still dry.

Strange dark clouds are gathering in the east (why east?),
Too weak to be the real mob. Above, a half-moon teased.
To the west, bright blue sky and the evening sun beckoned.
I knew I had to be on the beach, the day before the rains.

There, I should have prayed to the evening sun. But a lovely young one,
A twenty something I should not look at, stood between
Sad hopeless me and the sun. I could look at her mother
But she looked like me, company fit for the lovely one's father.

I scowled for a while, kicked at the wet sand,
But it's tough to keep up that mood on the beach.
I took long strides and raced to the setting sun,
Like a dog after a ball, I chased the waves.

I rested awhile, hot peanuts skinned on my palm,
Its ten now, used to be a rupee or two,
Used to have company too, now dark beady-eyed crows
Played kabaddi with me, feeding on the nuts.

Some time soon, I will swim to the deep, I promised.
The blue sky and the stars above me, the dark deep beneath,
I will try to float for a few moments, to tell her,
'I am coming, my love, we have been separated too long.'

They might find a bloated corpse, eaten, rotten.
The romantic will say, 'He did it for love.'
The cynical friend might add, '...after many decades.
How convenient!' They might not find me if it rains well.