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By Adwaitha Shankar

Rain evokes a tempest of emotions;

That downpour that one seeks when in solitude

Knotted in a wreath of flustered fervour

The little puddles strewn over those busy streets,

(Reflecting one's apathetic face

Who is dissembling that agony within,)

Is slowly getting filled,

With the obscure tears,

Plagued by those drops of rain.


Something that conceals a myriad of sensitivities,

Be it a lovers' ballad,

Or a loner's melancholies,

It's enchanting.

To those Little kids dancing in mirth,

To that elderly women ,the petrichor,

To that poet, the muse,

To that farmer, his bread,

All brought about by those tiny little drops

Of Rain.

By Adwaitha Shankar

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