Pleasures of summer

There was a lovely thunderstorm last evening. I like nor'westers. The rushing wind, the light-show in the sky, the peal of thunder... They all exhilarate me. Though we rush around closing windows so dust and rain don't blow in, I like to stand in the balcony and let the slanting sheets of rain lash me. After the build-up of heat for days and days, the storm feels like a blessing.

Though I have seen the dust storms of Delhi, I like the storms of Calcutta better. Looking forward to a storm is one of the pleasures of summer for me. My first summer in Calcutta was a revelation. I discovered the kalbaishaki. Here is a poem I wrote about it. Before anyone sniggers about the title, I wrote it before Arundhati Roy published her novel. So there. :D

May in Calcutta

the city in heat
afire beneath a canopy of green
red russet rust yellow and lilac,
and an occasional golden shower of laburnum;
the city burns.
the smoldering sweltering
sweating heat
working up to a fever pitch
until the nor'wester arrives conquering

nipples hardening in the sudden cool breezes,
skin tingling with a new wet heat,
gales breathe caresses on fevered skin
and lightning-fingers pluck nerves
stretched taut;
thunder gasps in quickening clasps
and Calcutta comes.

Cheers!