Rain is a mystical potion that turns my sadness into smiles. The rainy season is my favorite. I like it when the whole day remains cloudy with a drizzle now and then. I struggled with sinus problems when I was in school and college, but I still feel happy when it starts drizzling.
Petrichor awakens the tired soul of mine and says ” Hey buddy, I am here again!”
The appearance of the first drop from the skies is like meeting a long-lost love. Moreover, I hate summer. The thunderstorm and sudden downpour give me the relief that sweaty days are over. It also reminds me how people break down suddenly, express their hearts, and then feel better. So, I always see heavenly showers as a symbol of rejuvenation.
Even the plants around me look gleeful during the monsoon season. So when it turns cloudy, and the cool breeze invades my garden, the poet in me awakens. It forces me to write, and so you will see that many of my poems are centered around rain.
I welcome the monsoon season with a whole heart. I have been waiting for it since January! Jumping in joy, I capture rainy scenes with my little mobile camera. All my social media handles and WhatsApp will talk about the change in weather! I am not shy about making a paper boat and seeing how long it can stay afloat.
I would seek the cozy corner of my domicile and sit by the window with a book, tea cup, music, and snacks. My world would become heavenly, and man, nothing else in this world would make me this happy. By the way, if everything around me was sea green, that would make me even happier.
Let me stop here. If you let me, I would spin 1000 rain stories. They are my favorites.
As it’s raining now, let me write a poem.
The Song Of The Age Old Soul
In the music of the rain, my heart dances
by the window, I sit reading old books
sipping mom’s love poured into a coffee cup
in a novel’s embrace, I hear the song of Your mind
How great is thy love? It makes me this happy!
written by
Shalini Samuel
Why Rain Is So Special?
The monsoons bring back nostalgic memories; they connect me to the universe that existed eons ago. No water is created, right? So it keeps circulating like invisible air, connecting us to the souls that lived here years ago. Among the things I see and feel, rain and breeze are the oldest. And I cherish them as Almighty’s oldest pals. I would like to befriend them, hear their whispers, and learn their wisdom.
