It showered continuously for two days in Delhi.The days have become pleasant,the mornings have become cold ,afternoons became overcast ,evenings became chilly and the waters are ice cold again.We went for long drives to enjoy the ongoing pleasant spell,we all know its the coolness before the scorching heat.
Some shots of the long drive:
It was windySuddenly we noticed the pretty pinks in profusion
Looks like the Gorgeous Pink Bouquet in the hands of a bride
Thought even I shall admire my foot:)
I simply dont know how to tell you all that I am in love with rain,from the time i have seen it and realized its rain.
Rain has captured my heart and stolen my soul.
I believe that I’ve lost control.
It’s a feeling I never want to go away.
I want to be with you every day,my Rain.
Rain reminds me of the light paperboats we used to make at home when we were children.It was my grand father who used to be with us for floating them.Rain water used to gush in front of our house ,our house was at a lower level.There used to be pools of water long after the rain is gone.It was fun at home.Memories flooding.
Rain reminds me of the lines of the beautiful poem composed by the Eminent Malayalam poet Sugathakumari ,titled "Rathrimazha"(Night Rain),where she compares the night rain to some young mad woman weeping,laughing and whimpering and sitting huddled up tossing her long black hair.Night rain being compared to the Pensive daughter of the dusky dark,who witnessed my love,who lulled me to sleep,gave more joy than the white moonlight,which gave me thrill with joy and laugh.Finally she says,let me tell you night rain,I know your music,kind and sad,your coming in the night,sobbing and weeping in the dawn and compares herself to a night rain.A lovely poem which I learnt in school still haunts me when its raining.
As I write this I see the clouds gathering and I switch on the lights in the room.
Finally rain comes tearing and roaring down,I run to close my balcony door.
Curtains fluttering in the wind and doormats wet.
Balcony is sprayed with full of water and the ferns and phillodendrons get new lease of life.
After posting this ,i think of the chai...
I can hear my little one crying out to the rain:
Pitter Patter raindrops,Pitter Patter Rain drops
Oh, where do you come from,You little drops of rain,
Pitter patter, pitter patter,Down the window pane?
They won't let me walk,And they won't let me play,
And they won't let me go Out of doors at all today.
all images lakshmi arvind