Rain-Anathema

Tanima Sen is not fond of rain.
Muddy, muddy, muddy. Oh-
Here. It’s falling again. Duttori
Baba. Eww, eww, hapless so-
Vexed, she, in a shirty Ferrari
Vroom-screech, before a vno-
Kolkata. Inside a narrow bylane.

Tamal Bhuban was hastily drawn
To her. Her snobby- tsk, tsk-
Beauty to match his brawn, is-
Immensely pleasing, but, grotesque-
Her sense of right and wrong. His
Is more just, her is more risk:
He tells that. To her. Enmity born.

In a car, both, them, Tamal-Tanima-
In love, now not, now vacillate-
Together. What a dilemma. For two-
Rain soaked hearts. Stuck. Great!
In a rain soaked city. That in a few
Days will turn sunny. Those droplets
Of salt, will turn love’s anathema.

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