It Rained Dry.

Second class notorious compartment,
O what a disappointment you are today.
Its the first shower and I'm loveless, lover less.
While drops liberate sweet romance
In the smell of wet mud,
And leaves sparkle
Everytime love is felt somewhere,
I stand here alone at the door,half wet.
Even in the most horrid sticky sun days,
You are always there,
Violating and vigilant.
Always busy in testing feedback of touches,
Like a pervert doctor from a fantasy.
Where are you today
While I scribble your name
On the fogged doors ?
Come before the clouds run out
Of the precious water pristine.
Come before the reasons
To be happy dry up.
Come, we shall dance and love
And moan and cry,
And no one will come to know about it.
I'll swing with you to the movement and jerks of the slow train and the undulating tracks.
We shall hold hands in a pair,
The other pair out in air
Feeling the drops pinch us.
We shall make a memory till either of us has to get down.
A memory to last the entire season.
Just fill the first page of the my monsoon diary,
And let me rest in peace.