It rained today.
It did yesterday too , but it was different today.
I was different today.
When I stood by the bush leaning on a pole in college today, the leaves swaying in the wind felt cooler, the apartment building against the grey sky somewhat bleaker, the moods of the clouds somehow sadder. And it was beautiful.
When I got off the bus at Gathaghar knowing I’d have to get a lift home, the rain was pounding almost as hard as my heart has been a couple of days. I jumped over puddles brimming with lights from the streets. I turned around as I walked and stopped to watch raindrops storming space above the earth. I stood and watched people seamlessly make and fill spaces in the rain.
Again I have my little book of poems by Rabindranath Tagore on my bed, beside me.
“LOVE! When you come with the burning lamp of pain
in your hand, I can see your face and know you
It could not be more true.