Here’s the second poem of August from Mustansir Dalvi’s poetry book Brouhahas of Cocks. I find this one very relatable!
– Mustansir Dalvi
The air is thick, and has revived
my books, anticipating the first spell
of a Bombay monsoon.
Ambient moisture has slaked pages
that shuffle and twist, arise
to a wakefulness, unleaving.
Feeling the discomfort of nearness, they push
like Harbour Line commuters in rush hour,
to complain I have neglected them too long.
At night, I am shaken by a poltergeist
Thud! snapping me out of a dream state.
I pull on my glasses, feel my way to the bookshelves.
The hardbacks wait for me, annoyed.
They fall on their sides, open wide
and like Gabriel, call upon me: ‘Read!’
they cry, ‘Read!’