TROPICAL RAIN.

TROPICAL RAIN.

Suddenly, daylight turned into nighttime
The skies turned from bright and sunny,
To dark, gloomy, and ominous.
The still air started moving and howling,
Hurling leaves, scraps of clothing, and twigs,
Into people, animals, and traffic.
Trees swayed, branches snapped,
Old rotten trees are uprooted.
The air was full of missiles,
Missiles of all shapes and forms.
Flipped loose roof claddings made,
Clanging metallic noises in between gusts,
As they returned to their resting places.
Only to be lifted again, and again,
Until separated from their moorings.

Loose claddings turned into missiles.
Poorly constructed houses were separated,
From their metallic or thatched roofs.
Poles and antennae danced in the wind,
Some snapping and throwing communities,
Into darkness, magnifying the gloom,
That engulfed strangers to the Tropics.
Women held close to their wrappers,
As the wind gusts tried to undress them.
Caps, head wraps, and hats were sent flying,
Into the wind in a kaleidoscopic display,
Of bright shiny Tropical colors.
Slightly built persons swayed and gyrated,
As the wind threatened to elevate them,
Or slam them to the ground.

People and animals ran helter-skelter,
Seeking the nearest and safest sanctuary,
If away from home or at work.
Flashes of lightning illuminated,
The darkness momentarily.
Followed by loud reverberating sounds,
Of thunder adding to the musical din.
A din made worse as flying objects,
Crashed into each other or,
Into stationary objects in their paths.
Meanwhile, children were overjoyed,
Expectant of the bountiful harvest.
Soon it will be raining pears, mangoes, and oranges
Fruits separated from their trees,
By the powerful windstorms.

As on cue, the skies started clearing,
And the heavens opened up,
Delivering its cargo of moisture,
In wine grape sizes that hurt,
On contact with skin or added,
To the climatic orchestra,
On contact with metallic objects.
Children improvised the violin,
By simultaneous occlusion of both ears,
With the palms of their hands.
Followed by releasing the occlusion,
By lifting the hands simultaneously.
Off went all the clothing and accessories,
As neighborhood kids trooped into the rain,
To join in celebrating the Tropical rain.

Those were the days of innocence.
No child molesters or kidnappers,
Lurked in the shadows, waiting,
To pounce on the frolicking kids.
Male, female, and undecided children,
Commingled without suspicion.
Nothing beats a natural shower.
Kids made rounds from fruit tree,
To fruit tree filling their baskets and pockets,
Till they were bursting at the seams.
Kids oblivious of the dangers of lightning,
The dangers of nails, glass, metal, and twigs,
Strewn over the landscape,
As they scramble to collect,
The juiciest and yummiest fruits.

Adults, if in confines of own home,
Roasted corn and pears for all.
And may grab a round or two of intimacy,
As they waited for their children’s return.
Nothing beats a familial meal of corn and pears.
Beggarly adults waited in hiding,
For the return of the bounty.
If begging fails, adults known,
To forcibly snatch from the bounty,
As the kids wailed and kicked.
Suddenly the arch of a rainbow appeared,
As the Sun returned to claim,
It’s supremacy, after all, it is the tropics.
Tropical rain, a sight, sound, and spectacle,
That thrills adults and mesmerizes children.

Comments always welcome.

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