Sweat

Mohan had been working all day and night for the launch of the new product from his new company. This was his first major assignment and he wanted everything to be as close as to perfect. He would think back on every argument in the meeting room in the days leading to the launch and irrespective of the fact that he may have fiercely opposed the argument from his detractors, if there was any merit in them, he would include them into his plan. He had two stations - meeting room at office and his study at home. He had put on weight, which he was aware of and some arrogance, which he was not. The launch was more or less on expected lines. Even the encomiums showered were expected and so were the cautious prophesies of sooth sayers. Mohan was usually level headed but the calmness this time around surprised even him. There was a lightness of course. He looked forward to the break to which he kept on adding 'much-needed' without really meaning it. The break was also coming to an end without any break for Mohan from the strange sense of being an emotionless witness to events of his own life. On the last day, he ventured out early morning for a walk. The sun was quite bright even at that hour of the day and Mohan had no particular route in mind, the city was new. He did not mind though, he was feeling better. He saw a bunch of school kids chasing one another perilously close to the road, an old man cycling and muttering something to himself, an old lady grabbing the arm and looking with gratitude to another young lady, three middle age women in purple, pink and aqua with i-pods tucked into their ears walking towards a park, a school bus honking and speeding past the tender-coconut hawker, a young boy catching the news paper which bounced off the 2nd floor balcony on his first throw, a road-side tea seller haggling with the milk vendor over change money and a group of old men with sticks in hands coming out of a park after their morning routine of exercise. Mohan jogged back home and was exhausted by the time he reached. He showered and then sat down to read newspaper with a cup of coffee. He was sweating when he entered the shower and the stint at kitchen did not help. He was wiping the sweat of his forehead with the news paper till he finished his coffee. He changed his position a few times over to come closer to the fan in the drawing room. He switched on the TV, flipped through channels, pages of newspaper, scrolled down the contact list of his phone and switched off the TV. He called up his friend who was settled in another country now and an uncle who was moving in to the town. He opened his laptop and after a while shut it down without figuring it out why he opened it in the first place. He arranged and then rearranged his book shelf and picked up a book. It was well past noon when he had his lunch and the heat was rising. He kept wiping his brow with a towel and washing his face but the sweat returned. He read another book and talked to his family. He checked his e-mails and replied to few of them. He got up around evening from his unkempt bed and poured himself a glass of wine. He was still sweating and the towel and his shirt were wet. He did not switch on the AC or go to his study. It was his purging. He felt alive, as if life was trickling through his pores after his interaction and acknowledgement of the world outside this morning and a different routine at home. He felt many emotions which may not have a simple name or classification. He felt deja vu but could not figure out for what. He felt sad but did not understand why. He stood at his balcony for a long time watching the sky which was looking like a movie screen just before the light is beamed into it from projector room. It started to rain slowly and a cool breeze was touching his face. He did not know how long he stood there or if the droplets on his back were sweat or rain.

The river as big as the sea

It is hard to say
What has become what.
And who is flowing into whom.
The mighty river
Has become as big as the sea.

The calmness of the sea
Is there in the river now.
Like a glowing sheet of silver
It lays along the green banks of villages,
Brown roads of the city
And black rocks of the hills.

The sea it seems has become restless
As the river.
Years of mingling,
Of listening to the grief and joys
Brought along from the hills and
The plateaus and plains 
Have finally affected the unmoved
And usually restrained sea.

The sky has seen it all
And is expressing its anger
Through the redness spread all over
Its face, and the river and the sea.
The flow has reversed,
The giver has become the receiver
The holy has become ominous.

This year the floods have been really bad.