The Story After the Story's End

On a late Ashadh afternoon,
the rain came to me
carrying tender, wet kadamba blossoms.
What wonderful conversations we had—
the rain and I!
Over crackers and curling tea steam
our feelings came alive in play.
Blue-green gatherings assembled,
red-yellow dreams floated by,
I laughed, growing lighter,
while the rain wept.
 
One by one, it told me
of its heaps and heaps of sorrow.
Such a vast cargo of grief-water—
now it has grown so terribly heavy.
No one understands its pain,
no one sees its tears,
it has no home anywhere,
only endless wandering is its fate.
Sometimes it stays as clouds in that sky,
sometimes it falls from heaven,
merges with rivers through earth's kiss,
flows as a river to that ocean,
rises again at the sun's touch
to that very sky.
Leaving home, coming outside to look,
it finds itself still at home!
And so it continues...
 
Between words, in the gaps of stories,
the rain suddenly asked me,
If I tell you something,
will you keep it safe?
I laughed and said, Tell me!
Let me hear what kind of thing it is!
With tearful eyes the rain said,
Don't be angry, my friend,
but I want to store some water
with you today.
Can you do it? Will you keep it safe?
I'll take it back in Ashadh
right on time, you'll see!
Why are you thinking? the rain said,
I know
how generous you are!
I also know—
your heart has even more room.
Will you keep it? Can you manage?
 
Now what am I to do!
Where will I find space
for all that water?
I'm already full
with the play of salt water waves!—
Let no one else know, but I know!
At such demands from the rain,
I grow terribly despondent
inside my heart.
Yet I don't let it understand this from outside!
Puffing out my cheeks with a smile, I said,
Why hesitate?
Store away as much as you like, whenever you like!
Now the rain was tremendously happy!
It laughed with an open heart,
rolling around in joy!
Laughing, it said,
Stay my neighbor just like this!
 
Between words—
suddenly, carelessly,
the door of my mind
swung open!
Seeing that inner room,
the rain recoiled and said,
You'll give my water space—
fine words indeed!
But you're already brimming full!
Laughing, I told it,
This is an ocean of joyful water!
There will definitely be room for you,
trust my word!
 
Hearing this, the rain laughed,
wiping its eyes.
With peaceful eyes it looked and said,
Brother, I was born in water,
I live in water,
will you really
teach me
water's own colors?
 
Time walks on snail-feet, the afternoon ends.
At last—
the one who came to give water
departed, taking water with it.
Who has ever seen such play!
The burden of salt water lessened,
my heart grew light;
looking outside then, I saw
how the late Ashadh rain was falling with laughter,
keeping time with ankle bells, spilling melodies.
I too laughed, my thoughts laughed—
let the fine drizzle descend,
let the thunderous rain dance wildly,
however the rain may fall—
I love the rain itself!