The April Rain – Adya Chauhan

Trigger Warning:
Mention of death/loss. Proceeding with due discretion is advised.

The sky is raining;

how lovely and lonely.

It’s drenching the leaves, the trees, the buildings,

birds, people, feelings.

 

We’re one month on, in the middle of May.

 

It’s true,

April, the cruellest month of the year, was a long time ago.

 

My head is cluttered.

Incoherent thoughts

about her

aren’t taking the desired shape.

Words from my heart are flowing and fading.

 

I once loved an April girl and I think of her every day.

 

It wasn’t too long ago when she took leave of her home.

A week after she left, it was pouring outside–

my least favourite rain of spring.

Is it summer so soon?

April wasn’t too long ago.

 

I once loved an April girl and I think of her every day.

 

What did we talk about?

We talked about forgotten things.

What we talked about wasn’t enough.

We talked about arbitrary things, things that don’t count.

What did we talk about?

We talked about nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing,

nothing.

 

How will I forgive myself for everything I couldn’t say?

How does one live with that?

 

I once loved an April girl and I think of her every day.

 

She’s gone now and I’m forlorn.

The blue of her memory seeps into my tears;

it accompanies the red of my broken heart.

The golden-blessed spring… I hate it.

 

The spring that took her.

 

The spring of ’21;

the spring with and without her.

 

It’s true,

I once loved an April girl and I think of her every day.

The only spring I’ll miss her is every spring.

 

Is it raining?

I think it’s raining.

How beautifully depressing is

an April rain in May.

 

– Adya Chauhan, Amity International School, Noida

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