Waking up suddenly, grandma asked: is it raining?
No, it is not, said the child, busy with her old toys.
But I heard the torrential rains
over the tiled roofs, green fields,
the singing river and the winding streets!
Intrigued, the kid opened the window.
A fierce sun shone on Delhi's cluttered skyline
Then…the kid felt
the soft rains, falling drop-wise
in cupped hands, thrust out
of barred windows, tingling the palms
sliding down into the ground
Hey, you cannot store the diamonds for long!
a forgotten sport!
Sunil Sharma is a writer based in Mumbai, India. A college principal, he has published four books of poetry, two books of shorts and a novel in English, apart from co-editing six literary anthologies. He edits Episteme: http://www.episteme.net.in/