My rain , my reign.
The flower beside her drooped down; the soil cracked; tears rolled down her cheeks.
Now, The flower stands erect, the soil has found moisture.
She paused a moment to notice- the droplets outside the window, stopped the droplets within.
~बंद घर में रहकर वो अक्सर रोती
लेकिन जब उसने बाहर की बारिश को देखा ठहरकर,
वो पूरी दुनिया जीने लगी -
इन दो खिड़कियों के बीच रेहकर`~
Rain, it’s more than just a few droplets of water. It is like magic, it changes people’s moods, surpassing the abilities of Harry Potter.
The advent of rain makes some drop their tissues, while makes others pick one up.
Some cook Pakoras, while others, sit in the balcony with a cup.
Rain is different for each person. -
It’s time to be romantic and feel the pulse of love,
Or a pathway to reminisce heartbreak, with the film of past memories flashing above.
It is sloppy and muddy and slippery with disgust rising up for some,
While for the others, tis a time to get wet and dance till their feet are numb.
It is meditation, the mist of calmness blurring all the stress around,
Yet, it abstains mothers from hanging their clothes outside, her anger knowing no bounds.
It gives birth to life, nurturing all the plants and animals to create a world full of beauty,
Yet, in its greatest strength, it causes destruction, tethering life with the chain of cruelty.
It is everything and nothing, all at the same time,
That’s the magic of rain, its charm, sublime.
- Naman Mehta