It also reminded me of a poem that I wrote 20 years ago. I guess it was in Cochin, or was it Trivandrum? when ogling was an all time passion.
The torrid heat of unrequited lust in those days was drenched by the occasional showers that fell in the form of a pretty persona passing by and on occasions a girlish glance, that seemed to both quench and tease the thirst yet again. There are times when I am glad I am past my prime ... you are able to hold a conversation and your glance without sinking to the depths(pun intended) of depravity :)
What better way to sublimate these thoughts than to let them fly free on the "viewless wings of poesy"?
Monsoon Magic
The rains had subsided, but the ground was wet,
Puddles here, rivulets there, umbrellas bobbing here and there,
She hitched up her saree and jumped across a puddle
Her hair shook in waves her necklace askew
She looked up, caught me staring, looked away
A raindrop fell down her hair
Down her forehead, around her eyes
Soft liquid brown, doe like, avoiding mine
Towards her lips, curved and rosy
Which twitch slightly as the rain- drop ended its journey
The rumble of a bus broke into my thoughts and my dream
A glance before she left, was all I had to dream
Vinod Natesan
1988
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