essential meghdoot

I rush upstairs to save the clothes,
just put out in the sun,

but when I see them swaying in the rain,
after so many May-like afternoons,

I let them soak in the clouds,
for they too live in parched Madras.

In a mood for Meghdoot,
in english but of course,

I wonder how one can speak of it,
and the deep, dark cloud,
in minutes and not in laborious dance-epics,

for the passion would then dry up,
as quickly as pappadam in the April sun,

but a simple ad does just that.

so now you tell me, in just one line,
what you see in the dark cloud right up there.

~the window siller

~meanwhile, in other worlds, mukul kesavan tries to upset my perfect world. but I remain firmly colonial.