I fell in love that afternoon
When the monsoon touched the earth so powerful in its passion
that the stone compound wall keeping vagrants out
came under siege by an exiled lake returning to the drained bed of our houses
and rolled like a prolonged crash of thunder into a drowning grey rubble
We held hands under the umbrella,
marveling at newspaper imaginings and TV hearsay
the high excitement of a modest flood in our neighbourhood
with the inclement wind in our faces
slate water, up to ankles, that washed the human dung from the shelters in with our flower beds and bicycles
and the Raag Megh unnecessarily keeping tune in my head
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