By Haimanti Dutta Ray
The rains have come, it’s time for joy –
Heaven’s tears, to quench our thirst, to purge us off emotional alloy.
Come, let us all drench ourselves amidst the downpour,
Rooted as we are, who’s stopping us from letting our dreams soar?
High above, where the firmament opens up its door
As we pine for what’s not, it’s we who cherish memories forever more.
TIME magazine has called Pather Panchali, one among the greats
Ray’s classic was made with a budget, that’d surprise today’s magnates,
In the film, Durga dies after soaking herself with glee in the rains
Rural life is pristine – brother sister duo watch the advancement of trains.
I love to get wet in the rains and I am alive
Technicolor removed chiaroscuro like honey from a beehive –
We no longer live in huts – our addresses resemble apartment five
Instead of watching classics, we prefer ones that tell us to jive.
We are homo sapiens and that’s not our fault,
Always remember – the past catches up in a somersault.
By Haimanti Dutta Ray
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