Man in the plumeria garden

Rain was still pouring on him in the plumeria garden even though he was dead already.
At times drizzling and then raging with thunderstorms, rain never stopped around him.

Robins left their nests in the unsettling madness of the rain.
The madness of never ending love. Ludicrous.

'Now that he is dead, when can I stop loving him?' Rain asks. It sings and it sobs.




The drops rolled through his dreamy eyes and aquiline nose.
He was still warm and the drops fell down through his badam shaped nails.

Those tiny streams could not resist thinking about the time they spent with him, while flowing away with the plumerias that had fallen around him.
His charm was increasing with the rain.

And one day, slowly he flew away with the rain drops and rest of the plumerias, leaving the garden empty.

The Oil Painting

I went there during night with a floating cloud inside me. I don't remember the path but I always reach there.
That night it rained and the hot bricks smelled like earth. Raw.

Listening to the slow rain, I sat inside, clutching the arms around my legs. I had been thinking about the dark circles around those eyes, those kind and lazy eyes.

I had never seen such kind eyes before.
Rather I never knew there can be kindness in eyes. Those small slits into a whole another world.
Like slipping on a wet oil painting, I fell deep into them.
Those eyes freeze me every time and take away all the vapors inside me till I fly like a pollen.


When I woke up, it was sunny.
White lilies had bloomed around the corner. Lying on the floor I watched them up close.
I thought butterflies would fly around.

Later I went out and walked through the meadows. Around those many flies and crickets, the earth laid nude. It had already forgotten the night's rain.
I wished if I could also forget those eyes like that and be warm again. I wanted butterflies to fly around the lilies.

It never rained again and the eyes and the kindness inside them never went away.
Watching the finches and mynas I had walked long enough to lose my way.




Finally I could lose myself in that oil painting. Of the lilies and butterflies.