When there’s a breeze there’s the swisshhh,
And then there’s the distant rumble.
The skies open, I hear pitter patter,
Complete drama in emptying the clothes line.
Colours all over the house as semi-wet clothes drape the doors.
Power cut and momentary silence,
Broken by hooded strangers ringing the bell.
A sudden burst of sunshine and a complete change of scene,
Chennai’s winter – I never want this to end.