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Just as the Earth welcomes the first rain with open arms, so do us.. in the hope that rain will wash away all our worries.
A powder of blue was sprinkled on the sky where cottony puffs of clouds danced
To the errant breeze that could not decide whether to blow hard or be mellow.
The sun had dimmed his fire today; he seemed content to let the children play.
The naughty breeze blew clouds of dandelions and they floated like Misty bubbles.
The meadow with its verdant hues of Jade was tranquil in the laziness of the day.
It laid out its wares of daisies, bluebells, peonies and petunias almost wistfully.
I sank into the warmth that the Lea offered. It was like a mother’s loving embrace.
I let myself be one with the Glade and inhaled the heady aroma of the petrichor.
Then stray winds picked up and blew from all across, undecided in their direction.
Their gentle wanton gait seemed almost languid until they picked up their pace
And blew harder across the meadow raising up, a maelstrom of leaves & petals.
I sat up and looked to the skies for it seemed like rain was imminent soon, again.
On my upturned face I felt the first drop if moisture, like a pearl it rolled down.
But it was not a stray drop for soon enough I felt the first sprinkle of misty water.
The fine mist gradually turned into a steady drizzle and wet my eager face.
I raised my arms, grinned gleefully and welcomed the first rains of the season.
Image via Pixabay
Sonal is a multiple award winning blogger and writer and the founder of a women-centric manpower search firm - www.rianplacements.com. Her first book, a volume of poetry - Islands in the stream - is slated read more...
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We can’t bombard impressionable young women in the name of enlightened entertainment to feed them the same drivel. At least let us not label misogynist movies as helping the cause of women.
I have watched at least 2 ‘purported’ trailblazing Bollywood movies in the recent past that left me with a feeling that I had taken part in the ice-bucket challenge all over again. This time around, however, without even the satisfaction of having supported a worthy cause.
Both the movies have about a 90% liking rate on IMDB/Rotten Tomatoes. Both are touted to ‘sensitively’ portray the taboo topics that seem to be mostly hidden underneath a layer of banana peels – dangerous to even tread nearby.
Dushyanta clearly remembered everything. But he didn't have any intention to accept a poor woman from a remote hermitage as his wife and her son as theirs.
Dushyanta clearly remembered everything. But he didn’t have any intention to accept a poor woman from a remote hermitage as his wife and her son as theirs.
She sat motionless on the royal bed, her knees drawn up to her chin, staring vacantly outside the palace window.
She was sheathed in exquisite scarlet red silk, shot through with golden threads forming intricate traditional patterns. Chests of gems and jewellery were strewn all over the bed. The maids were fussing over whether a diamond-studded necklace would suit their queen or a gold choker would look better. Another younger maid was arranging her tresses in a coiffeur.
The school, the only concrete building, had people milling about it when we reached. Khan Dadu and his Ammi wept bitterly. She informed him that more of their land had been washed away
The school, the only concrete building, had people milling about it when we reached. Khan Dadu and his Ammi wept bitterly. She informed him that more of their land had been washed away.
I met him on my visit home from the hostel. I saw him digging away in the lush green lawn. He looked up to take a look at me through his blank, deep set eyes and then got back to his work again. The first rains of the season had just paid our town a visit. The small garden in front of my house was sparkling, the pristine drops of rain still hanging on to the leaves and flower petals. I had never seen him before, but figured he must be the new gardener my mother spoke about. As I turned back to look at him, while waiting for someone to open the door, I noticed him talking to a brown string around his finger and then it wriggled – a worm?
I saw him again the next morning amidst the blooming red hibiscus and the scarlet Gulmohar, painstakingly planting saplings. It looked to me that he was wiping off his tears, but I couldn’t be sure because it was still drizzling.
"My husband never cared much for eggplant." she added as she served a generous helping onto my plate. “This isn't really breakfast food," she shrugged, “but like I said I don't follow rules much when it comes to food."
“My husband never cared much for eggplant.” she added as she served a generous helping onto my plate. “This isn’t really breakfast food,” she shrugged, “but like I said I don’t follow rules much when it comes to food.”
I poured out the freshly brewed coffee into a mug, blew into the rising steam and took a tentative sip as I turned on my laptop. As the system purred into life I gazed out of the bedroom window. It was seven in the morning. The sun was hidden among the clouds shedding a bleak light all around, as if still deciding whether to wake up or go back to sleep into the snug folds of the clouds. Summer was gone, but monsoon had not arrived yet. The weather was cool but laden heavy with grit and grunge, waiting to be washed clean by the absconding rains.
My email server popped up. Five new emails. One marked red; High Importance. I clicked on the one email, my eyes skimming across the letters. Ignoring the other four emails, I punched the laptop back to sleep mode.