Find you like the incessant
Rain off the coastal towns
Of Orissa.
May the plotlines get to
You like North Eastern winds
And unimaginable names
They give to cyclones.
And the water level as it
Rises, alarming the chances
Of a flood-
Knees deep, above the waist.
Then over the belly and
Chest to reach your mouth.
This story, may it get on
Over your head to down,
Like an unintended climax.
And leave worried in a
Good way-
Like the taste of coffee on
The tip of your tongue,
For the rest of your life.
For the rest of your life.