Years passed but the picturesque from the window is still the same. It’s raining and the fragrance of wet earth fills the mind with long lost memories. Suddenly everything becomes alive, fresh like a dew drop waiting to sparkle by the warmth of remembrance. Droplets sprinkle like a mother’s hand waving her child and singing a lullaby in the cold breeze. Rain itself being devoid of hues paints the earth’s face with serenity scattered in drops.
Somewhere, a lone chair in the balcony and a cup of tea in the hands of a young woman engrossed in thoughts of a dear one while she slowly lifts her palm and tries to cage the crystal pearls. Arrays of green cordates dancing coyly with the winds and lure her to dance in the amorous fall. But no one touches her. Beauty without a beau! She closes her eyes and lets fantasy take her to dreamland.
Somewhere, an empty green field awaits a bunch of boys to stump, run and play on its muddy chest. A young lad embraces his queen in a perfect landscape. A father rejoices the laughter of his little girl as she splashes around with her tiny feet. And while sauntering, an ending age looks upon a rusted seesaw and cherishes childhood.
It’s a season of endless passion. Artists are inspired and philosophers seduced. Musicians compose romantic notes; poets illustrate beauty; Painters visualize imagination and writers pen contemplation. Pours that make you close your eyes and forget everything, lead you to trance. Nature moans and everything alive that can hear the melody, responds with an open heart and is drenched in love.
But somewhere, some families are assembled in one corner and why not, their floors are wet. Shades block the sun, not always the rain. Perhaps they are luckier than those who have none or maybe them who find transient ones. Sometimes a single umbrella is just not enough. This boon turns curse when bestowed overabundance. A farmer, who waits, laments for havoc turns. Flooded fields, water filled homes and sleepless nights. A false promise to hungry children, unquenchable thirsts and misery strengthen an eternal wait. No wonder, tears are the same element; drowning some in sheer desperation.
Originally posted on Blogger on Dec 31, 2011