Mystery sweeping the grave.
And I’m sleeping in my cave.
Thundering on thunder
Never ever dare to ponder.
Threatening the Sun not to rise in dark.
Rain running so fast in streets
Looking for a human ear
Whom rain could narrate the mystery
Wetting the street with her drops
Pleading the sleeping world to wake.
A stupid boy she found wandering.
Walking fearlessly in dark in His dream.
Why does his dreams walk there?
Why does his sleep wake there?
In the dark snoaring a mystery.
Days are those when the boy studies chemistry.
Rain drops fall from heaven
Dressing In the clothes of a maven.
Wet leaves lying dead on rainy street and
Dry ones dancing loudly in the tune of wind.
-ABHISHEK JANDIAL