287. The twelfth month of pregnancy One thing I have heard all my friends with children talk about is the restlessness they felt leading up to the the week of their due date, about how they just wanted to have the baby and be done. Now imagine that it's a woman's first pregnancy, and the weeks roll by, well past her due date. She is now twelve months along. What would be her state now? This brilliant poem opens with the visual of this woman, restless, craving for something sour. Her belly is so big that she can hardly walk, and yet her desire propels her forward. This image then turns into huge rainclouds, thundering restlessly, so big that they can hardly rise, yet crawling up the hills, making their way to the peaks. What can I say? The poem weighs on me. It's a Mullai poem. The hero is away, and years to be back home. The heroine yearns to find herself back in his arms. They wait. And wait. For the season of the rains, when be said he'd be back. The Mullai hero's mind is heavy; he whips his chariot's horses, flying across the woodlands to reunite with his wife. Like the clouds, his gaze is fixed too, on her. The Mullai heroine is heavy-hearted too, the season of rains is here, he is long overdue like the baby of that twelve-month-pregnant woman. For both of them, the object of their affection is out of their reach; it's a heavy burden. How slowly their days crawl! And yet, in the claps of the thunderclouds, there is hope, says her friend. He sees the clouds rise. He may come, any minute now! Such a lovely poem. One of my favorites :) #thinaimullai #kurunthokai #thozhikootru #kachchippettunannaakaiyaar