Skip to main content

Monsoon


Hello! If you're new to my blog, then ... Welcome![ I hope you'll join our small community of readers]. I'm trying to be as upbeat as possible in these last few posts before school and monsoon wipe away the sun from the sky and [maybe] the smile from my face.

 I don't know if you have monsoon where you live, but it's certainly a prominent season here in India. Rains have started where I live, and I always find Monsoon to be the following things...
 
Monsoon is long,
And terribly wet,
Dirt becomes mud,
And about getting colds,
All mothers fret.

The sun is no more,
The sky is dull,
  In Monsoon 
days are endless,
and I feel,
Oh! so restless!

Monsoon, 
is a pleasant temperature,
but everything else,
is just
TOO LONG!

If you enjoyed this poem, you can check out some of my other poems here:
                               


&

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I cannot remember my mother by Rabindranath Tagore

 The poem has been titled " I cannot remember my mother". It attracted me for some reason, for I thought that surely, a poem couldn't be completely empty. There had to be some form of nostalgia, or memory in a poem about no remembrance.  I realized after reading it, that I was right. In fact, the poem's title can be considered an oxymoron. However, the extent to which this poem is nostalgic, the amount of tiny details in this poem, wow. But I don't suppose Tagore was a Literature Nobel Laureate for nothing. This poem has sensitized its audience to the poet's colossal loss, though the poet ,it seems,has made no effort to do so. There is nothing superfluous about his writing, and the poem seems like a true expression of his love for his mother. It talks about how his mother managed to leave her presence on everything before she passed away, and how those little memories of his,form an incomplete memory of his mother.

A chameleon by Anton Cekhov

Hello everyone! Today I'm introducing a new series to my blog, called World Wednesday. I am not planning on posting these every week, but when I do, I will post about any piece of literature I’ve read that is set in a different culture, religion, country, state, continent, etc. It will be a window for people to share their opinions on literature that is outside of their comfort zones, and hopefully inspire them to read and learn more about other cultures. In a world that is so interconnected, it is important for us to know about other people's lives.   For this first post, I will be writing about "A Chameleon" by Anton Chekhov, a short satire set in Russia.

The Hero, by Rabindranath Tagore

 The narrative poem" The Hero" was written by Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore. Set in a young boy's imaginations this narrative has all the necessary elements and is rich in imagery. The characters, plot, setting, theme, climax and idea are all very clearly outlined.  The setting of the poem falls within the boy's imagination. It is described to have 'spiky grass' and a 'narrow broken path'. It is also mentioned that the country is 'strange and dangerous'. The rurality of the setting is further accentuated when Tagore talks of the 'cattle' and 'wide fields'.