Grandma’s rain
It will rain today, she says
the greyness of the sky
inflicts the disease of repetition
she is shrill and panicked
as the prospect of wet clothes
dawns on her
-there are around twenty
nearly wet clothes hanging on
a loosely tied plastic rope
on the first floor terrace
-they will get wet
‘but they are already wet’
they will get wet again
something scares her to death
II
death, doesn’t scare her anymore
she has reached an age
where she can be shrill
and not at all afraid of death
not that the two are related
but she uses it as an excuse
III
moments of anxiety creep up again
amidst the speculation about rain
it’s magnitude, its impact, it’s longevity
what will happen to the three unripe
mangoes hanging from the lonely tree
in the garden that sits outside the house
she worries as if their fate is connected
IV
the gloominess seems inevitable
it arrives as soon as it starts to rain
the grey clouds might have been responsible, if only
she was happier on bright days
V
between the hours that start
and the hours that end
there are hours that sit there
and simply stare at her
unblinking, until they inject
a deep sadness
within her restless soul
loneliness is a guest
she needs to get rid of
VI
she has found remedies
to outlast these lingering days
she sits on the porch, staring at the cars
for hours, from afternoon till late evening
not focusing on anything in particular
the senseless honking of the cars
doesn’t bother her any longer
she can be deaf when she needs to be
VII
It will rain again tomorrow
she wants to be well prepared, that’s all
she would have preferred if rain walked away
as memories do everyday
-they evaporate with the sun
they get washed away in the rain
VIII
she remembers some images
which remind her of a childhood -
a childhood forgotten in youth
in womanhood, in family, in work
suddenly, she is afraid of memories
they have a grip on her
they frighten her
she demands them to leave
her life requires no contemplation
-none
she finds her peace
sitting on the porch
-thoughtless as the rain
Abhishek Anicca is a poet, writer and researcher. He identifies as a person with disability and chronic illness. When not telling personal stories from his life, he writes on gender, politics and culture. Find his work here:Â https://muckrack.com/abhishek-anicca-1/portfolio