Dark clouds, with
the rain, bring nostalgia.
Memories
buried deep, in a corner of the heart,
Hidden from
everyone, concealed from ourselves too.
Somethings you have forgotten ever existed,
The rains
germinate them.
With the first drops comes petrichor,
The smell, it
makes you a kid.
Deep inside,
you wish schools get cancelled,
Only to
realize that you now attend a school called life that takes no days off.
A hot 'cutting' is the craving now.
Rain gets heavier and thoughts get denser,
Staring out of the window, you think of her.
Nothing specific, just her, and the memoirs.
Rain aggravates the thirst to find the meaning; of that something unknown.
Tea gives way to a glass of neat scotch.
There is a rain within you, something you have saved for the dry summer
days.
The rain within you, and the rain outside,
When both worlds collide,
Sparks fly out of the water,
Sparks never meant to be ignited!
Rain brings the desire for solitude.
For really you want no thought,
Just you, and the solitude,
And the blank gaze at the drops falling on your palm,
Then slipping out of your hand.
Rain is a person, unlike any other weather.
He comes, he destroys, he gives life…
Your wish for solitude is in fact a wish to be alone,
With rain, who knows all your deep secrets,
Because you have confided in him!
