Thursday, March 09, 2006

Pitter Patter

Last night, it 1:30 a.m. My friend and I sipped coffee watching the pool’s surface break into turquoise splinters.

Last night, I walked through the drive way, holding my breath – in anticipation that my first lungful would be the rich, spicy scent of wet earth.

Last night, there was lightning. Parts of the sky that had earlier been smeared with moonbeam turned pale ochre. And one star stubbornly shone behind a tattered cloud.

Last night, I walked home, looking up at this mad, twisted, exhilarating burst of paean.

Last night, I was wrong about how I thought I loved the rains completely. There was always room for a little more.

Like last night, there was a little room for this morning.


Blythe Spyryt said...

I love your posts, your style of writing (very musical, emotional) and its something i look forward to when i want to unwind with words. I especially loved your Bombay post :) funny how most of us prefer calling it Bombay still. Have a great week!

chitra said...

Wow Mukta ! Wow....

Mukta said...

Hi Blythe,

Thank you! You have a great week too! I'm so glad the week is almost over! Yay!

Hey chitra,

Thanks! :-D

doubtinggaurav said...


Let me tell you this,

Some day you will make a great canteen administrator, some of the best writers that I read were canteen administrators.
Just kidding,


Mukta said...


You are too kind. And your comment has now made me immensely curious. What do you do for a living?


Ashish Shakya said...

I love the monsoons too.Spent almost half the day today basking in its unexpected glory.If monsoon were a woman,I'd marry her and not look at another woman for the rest of my life.

Anonymous said...

Good one.

Pravin Kadam
Nashua, NH

Mukta said...

Hi Phoenix,

Sure would like to meeet her when you find her. :-)

Hey Pravin!

How are ya! Have emailed you!