Maize and the monsoon
One bite of smoky, roasted corn A drop of lemon, a pinch of salt The smell of burnt evenings Ah! A flood of memories Nor Vishnu, nor Krishna – I cannot contain the cosmos within My mouth; yet, an infinite world Swirls for that second of taste When you and I would seek - After all the waterfalls chased All the hills embraced – A stick of corn to celebrate the clouds The dripping wetness of the Ghats The endless staircases of the forts Swirling mists, horizon’s clouds All contained in those cobs of time There was a time we sought Maize in the monsoon – The whole universe, as if reversed now Turns back, a big crunch Now here, in dried up skies I seek, Monsoon in the maize - And that sweet taste of corn containing All the clouds that never rained… 6 th Feb’ 2026
