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Thursday, June 20, 2013

[OFF] Love in the times of rains

It's been such a rainy morning. No sign of the sun anywhere on the sky. Clouds all around threatening to unleash their watery fury at any time they wish. It has been a time when the trees enjoy merrily. The earth can bathe in the purest form of water Nature can give.

It's been watter-logged here near my house. The late morning rains accompanied by a powerful wind woke me up today. The wind was cold. It touched my soul and wanted me to love. It wanted me to love the rains. I wonder, why does the rain want my love, when it has so many lovers already? So many poets line up expressing their love to this wonderful outburst of Nature! Probably, I am the person she chose to love among all them people. Probably, I am the one, the clouds chose to offer their unbridled love!

Nah, too mushy.


It has been a long time since I had my heart raining like this. I feel like the ancient oak that has been cut open by a slice of axe. Only, it feels good. It feels good to rain. The clouds probably feel this way. When they rain, it might be a way to vent their heart. Their heart that travels for long distances, weary and tired. All they want to do is rain!

I feel a certain romance in the air when it rains. When the wind billows during the rain making the rain fall in a certain angle and appear to originate from a certain direction. When the rains fall on my window pane and the tiny drops of water get reflected inside. So many drops falling together in unison creating a music which no mortal man has heard. The music is for the birds and the bees. The music is for those who wish to hear it. I used to wonder how the dogs would know of the coming of a storm. It is the music. One needs to be tuned to the frequency of the rain to hear it. Different people have different perceptions. Poets hear differently, scientists hear it differently, criminals hear it differently, lovers hear it differently.

 There is a certain love in the air. I can feel it. I can hear it. It is like my entire existence is a nothingness to this love. For this love is immortal. It is the rain of the soul of Nature.

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