Complaint of A Deprived Rain Lover

There is something over my house,that doesn’t like the rain,lest I shall be happy as a peacock. Winds blow stronger and strongest,pushing away the clouds from southto the farthest of north. A thunder,a single thunderand that is all I get of the feeling,of something that would be rain. I am deprived more and most deprived,as

Memories of My Beloved called Rain

A hundred times and many more, I would always, always choose to sit idle alone on a bench looking across a stretch of grassland making sounds like rubbing palms against each other. On somedays may be a river bank bench and a green river full of plankton, moss and algae and the orange sun about

A Night Darker than Her Soul.

Clicking photographs was one such thing she ‘loved’ to do. It was her passion and she made a living out if it. This was probably the only blessing in her life. During peak seasons her days went super busy; clicking pictures for both local and city newspaper. Apart from her work in weekends, if at

A Dark Morning given away to Mourning.

She lay cozy in her fuzzy duvet and feet tucked out for the want of some relieving cold air. The rain hadn’t stopped for even a minute. News of landslides among the mountain roads had been airing all morning on the radio. She lay there, on her bed looking at the rain droplets accumulated on

Aroma of Her Favourite Skin

It was so hot in the afternoon that an evening shower was well deserved. Dry leaves blew here and there and the road was soon filled with them, in abundance. The evening moon hid behind the clouds by the time it was dark. Not pitch dark; a faint light from the street lamp lit their

Why do I Love Rain?

Late on a hot summer night when I toss on the bed rolling from one end to another and my feet floating up in the air, I ponder to myself, why do I Love rain ? I had a friend who used to literally abuse monsoons, get all cranked up when it rained. Although he