When it rains in Mumbai
Everything gets wet.
Do you or do you not?
Get wet.
Compared to yesterday
When they were coloured differently
But then so are niggers.
Who is to be blamed for war and hunger?
You?
No really. Should I blame you?
You Bastard.
The rain is falling down.
Just like the time I had that double scoop chocolate ice-cream.
And it fell on my pants.
And it stained.
The rain is unlike a tumor
The rain comes and goes.
But a tumor stays
Causing a slow painful death.
We are all the children of rain
That is not to say the rain made sweet love to all our mothers.
Or did it?
Then we are all bastards
Only this time
We’re wet bastards

