I want it to rain, and rain heavily it must.
My path back home should not be through pothole-filled roads where people fight with their egos and tension to move one inch ahead of the others.
I need a road that goes through open terrain where few walk with umbrellas, a few stand aside waiting of the rain to be over, many sit calmly in their seats in buses hoping that by the time they get off the bus, the rain would stop. I would love to see some crazy romantics on the road getting all drenched and energetically dancing all the way.
On that road, I wish to ride my cycle fast, without worry of laptop,wallet or phone. And no helmets either.
I rush home to get dried and reprimanded. And my home should be on the ground floor, with at least a small spot of green nearby for the rain drops to splash into, and for the frogs to showcase their skills. I wish to sit there, hearing the music of rain, feeling the tingling cold being relieved by the hot tea.
Slumber comes easily and unlike real slumber, here I wake up to the reality of what is real and what is not.
The time for summer heat and the vanquishing of it by the occasional rains is here. More tightly contested and enthusiastically discussed is this topic than any competition of politics or sports.
Conclusion
I love the homes in Kochi and Mysore where I received ample amounts of rain straight into my room, unlike the dusty,large,inhuman apartment in the dirt filled city. :-)
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My path back home should not be through pothole-filled roads where people fight with their egos and tension to move one inch ahead of the others.
I need a road that goes through open terrain where few walk with umbrellas, a few stand aside waiting of the rain to be over, many sit calmly in their seats in buses hoping that by the time they get off the bus, the rain would stop. I would love to see some crazy romantics on the road getting all drenched and energetically dancing all the way.
On that road, I wish to ride my cycle fast, without worry of laptop,wallet or phone. And no helmets either.
I rush home to get dried and reprimanded. And my home should be on the ground floor, with at least a small spot of green nearby for the rain drops to splash into, and for the frogs to showcase their skills. I wish to sit there, hearing the music of rain, feeling the tingling cold being relieved by the hot tea.
Slumber comes easily and unlike real slumber, here I wake up to the reality of what is real and what is not.
The time for summer heat and the vanquishing of it by the occasional rains is here. More tightly contested and enthusiastically discussed is this topic than any competition of politics or sports.
Conclusion
I love the homes in Kochi and Mysore where I received ample amounts of rain straight into my room, unlike the dusty,large,inhuman apartment in the dirt filled city. :-)
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