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An evocative poem that talks about rain, city life and the ills of urbanisation, by Mamta, exclusively for Different Truths.
Every day my son anxiously checks
The weather reports on his smartphone
All day he is morose
For the predictions too betray his hopes
Like everything else
The exclusion from an important college debate
He had pinned his hopes on
The research paper that he had submitted for a weighty periodical
‘Too verbose’, was the rejection remark that bled him dry
How do I tell him to siphon off his dismay
Heaviness that is profound, endless, distended
Scabs will keep falling off from wounds
Only the gashes will get deeper with age
In a world lavish with self-obsession
Each for himself and each by himself
The guiding principle of a stunted society
The finishing line is mostly out of reach
Quietly I beg him to weep
My own tears perspiring my whole being.
©Mamta Joshi
Photo from the Internet
#Poem #Tears ##SelfObsession #Rain #City #DifferentTruths
