Summer thirst

I thirst…
Not for love, money or
Even happiness.
I thirst for water
To quench the parched earth
To bring green to the brown
To bring fresh hope to those 
Who raise crops and food for us.
I need water
To fill the pots
Of each slum-dweller
Who puts her (it’s never a he)
Vessel in a long line of colours,
Waiting to drink, wash and live.
I have had enough of grishma ritu.
I want varsha…not just the odd shower
Or thunderstorm, but a steady,
Cloudy, drumming season
That will replenish the depleted
Plateau,that we live on
And call home.

Deepa Mohan
About Deepa Mohan 715 Articles

Deepa Mohan is a freelance writer and avid naturalist.