Through the glazed windows

The Gore-Tex hooded raincoat in radiant yellow,
Hung from a tinted peg in the wall growing pale.
Reminiscent of the erratic rain and thunderstorms,
And how smart Charu looked in the bridal veil.

Ominous clouds formed in distinctive patterns,
Coalescing and swelling every now and then.
Charu gazed intently at the forming upheaval,
Through the glazed window, till it started to rain.

The blazing days of the vertical rays are gone,
It was 2nd August; the day of pitiful Gaisal event.
When Charu was born in a clumsy Kolkata hospital,
And for the Duttas it was the day of merriment.

A full long year has Charu waited with dried tears,
Bani’s dad escorted her to school, a friend so dear.
Charu has eternally envied the glee on Bani’s face,
“But, today is another day and my Papa will be here.”

He was not there last year, or the year before,
But, Mama has pledged this time to bring him.
Dressed in her finest burgundy frock, she waited,
Till the gutters overflowed and the skies began to dim.

The age old Kassel wood table clock was ticking fast,
She looked outside through the misty panes.
The mysterious dark clouds rekindled her hopes.
While the traffic dwindled on the otherwise busy lanes.

Long did she wait through the silent hours of shade,
Till when she could no more stay awake and fell asleep,
Till when last of the yellow cabs stopped plying.
Memories and hopes were still forming in the deep.

---Jibendu Narayan Mazumder