BY VISHAKHA KASHYAP
September 7, 2026
BENGALURU, INDIA
It pours, like the sky falling down at once
I chant the hymn, my grandmother taught
The Brahmaputra roars in all its spirit,
As we secretly hope for it to calm down
I keep repeating the hymn, in my silence
Waiting for the rain gods to show mercy
We wait and wait,
Until, we welcome floods that we never wanna welcome!
I stare at the sky,
Still believing the rains would stop,
Not sure if I trust my grandmother more or the hymn she taught.
But all I know, I don’t want another day to be shut
Of us losing things to the flood’s mouth
Taking away our happiness into the puddle and mud.
I’ll never know if I’ll ever love rain again,
Maybe in another life, where it doesn’t spell pain,
I fall asleep, the hymn slowly dances in my lips,
The clouds move away and a ray of hope peeps.
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