A slow gathering of clouds in the north 
forming into a pool of dark; 
                                      rain thickening. 
The cold breeze wafts a dry mango leaf 
a little away from where it had been. 
The lightnings that follow, increasingly in number, 
                                    create an illusion 
of the fatelines on palms being stirred for sometime 
and then going still. 
The man by the roadside 
watching these cosmic games 
                                possibly for a change 
must have been a onetime indulgent husband 
who is now afraid, it seems, 
more of the dry thunders inside the walls 
                             rather than of the ones outside. 
He would not let these moments go by, unenjoyed 
but the rain that menacingly rose 
                                   ended up in a drizzle 
and the man by the roadside 
turned away from it hurriedly 
                                   for fear of catching cold 
standing like that through the evening.