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It was the month of June, 
When the whether had changed its tune,
The rain was lashing down,
It's wrath had drenched the town.

All the human beings succumbed to their warm abodes,
All but me, who was wandering along the water filled roads,
It was dark, and a blue umbrella in my hand,
Walked on and on, till I saw a lone girl in a bus stand.

She was hopeless, she was searching for help,
Until she saw me, she ran to me with a yelp,
Without hesitating, without asking, she reached under my umbrella,
Shivering and content, she chirped "thanks, fella!".

And I saw her face, clearly,
She had scars, wounds and charred, nearly,
She was an embodiment of abuse and painfulness,
She was an incarnation of fear and grimness.

She was happy, she got a companion in me,
she was hopeful, she was blindly trusting me,
I asked her " why are you alone?",
She replied " I was always alone".

"Hope always repelled me,
Happiness is scared of me,
But I never gave up,
I always have, with poise, my chin held up".

"Evil always have wandered around me,
The aura of submission always strayed around me,
Time have shown me the most difficult phases of life,
But here I am, with memories imprinted on my face, throbbing with life".

I was numb, I was mesmerized,
She was some angel, she had me enlightened,
She was ugly in looks, but she was lovely,
Oh god! I have fallen for her, she was so lively.

Till the moment I met her,
I had called myself a loser,
I was the famous, rich and handsome, who, within was a loner,
I had lots of friends, fans, followers, but they were friends with my money, fame and my power.

"Have I seen you somewhere?" She asked me, eyes wide,
"Might have, but not relevant", I was enjoying this edified ride,
I had no destination, I just walked by her rhythms,
I had no worries, she led me softly like a calm zephyr.

And suddenly we stopped, she had reached her destination,
She smiled at me, thanked me and went away to an unknown direction,
I was blank, reached out for the rain,
It had stopped long ago, for my umbrella was completely dry.

Again I was solitary,
The cold wind stopped, which was once fiery,
I adored her, but was sorry for myself,
I wasn't good enough for her, an unfortunate pal for a fighter like herself.


K.S.Lakshmi
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