Stormy Michaung
written by: Vidya Venkataramanan
The bay was depressed.
Which meant she had suppressed her
Emotions,
Bristling inside,
Churning up a storm
Brewing within her depths,
To catapult into
A full-blown
cyclone!
The weather man was right!
Building up over a few days,
She lay
In the bay,
seething in silence!
Working herself up into a storm,
Lying on the coast,
Pondering where to make the landfall!
Incessant rain,
Beating down on humanity,
Cold and hunger,
A harbinger
Of doom.
The gloom of damp smells,
And the fall of rain
Were watched through anxious windows,
Some through the safety of a home,
Some under the slant
Of broken awnings
Sheltering the homeless!
Climbing the steps
To invade houses,
The water rose steadily,
And in one swift moment,
Entered, unwelcome, into any home,
Racing to corners
Hitherto unknown!
Ankle deep,
Then knee deep,
Threatening to go higher,
When after twenty four indecisive hours,
Miss Michaung,
Threw back her hair
And raced to different shores,
Bringing a much needed relief
To her favorite shore!
Water
The life giver,
Can also be the
Life destroyer!
Man did discover!
Boats plying on land,
Ferrying mankind,
To safety,
The rich and the poor,
Hit by a common storm.
No caste or religion mattered here,
Life saving was the
Greater dare!
Food and shelter,
Sympathy and empathy
Shared over tears and wails,
No sign of smoking guns
Or raging knives,
Only shaking nerves!
Does it take a destructive cyclone,
To bring humanity together?
Where was the animosity
In the face of hunger?
Did colour blind
Empathy?
Stripped of all material wealth,
We stand alone,
But together,
Facing reality,
As the water rises,
In rich and poor homes,
Equalling all
Negating none!
Somewhat like death!
We know we are One,
But divided we stand,
Refusing to acknowledge,
A greater Truth!
- Winter of Life - November 30, 2024
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