First Rains

As I write this, sitting in an oven called 7^th floor in Bangalore in the garden city of India, I hear the first drops of rain the cold breeze which u can’t compare with the sanitized (bacteria free air as advertised by Samsung or LG or whatever) and the unique smell of rain on earth. I experience a joy, a spirit almost like a new beginning. A feeling which sparse writers like us feel when suddenly we get an idea and want to write nonstop till wither the idea is consumed or you get consumed…

One of my haunting memories of first rain is that of “sitting at Marine Drive and watching the dark clouds form almost like a battalion getting ready for an attack and they start moving towards you slowly and slowly….till it hits you and you are drenched again and again and again….but we keep sitting and let the rain hit us again and again and again till it loses and walks away…..But we waited for the next shower …and hoped that it will help resolve things between us and the world at large….”