The First Rain

By Srishti Rastogi

It’s like the ending of a hopeful anticipation. The one where we know how it is going to end. But there is an impatient pause, and the wait remains. Though the ending will have its unaverted hardships, but we don’t think of it yet, for the joy about to be relished is not tainted by any sourness, as it is the only experience of its kind. We hold on to the refreshing cold breeze, and in the midst of the settling patience, the splash of a rain drop is felt on our skin. The wait is over. Our mind transcends into the childhood ecstasy of the happiness we found in minuscule moments. Gradually the thoughts of unresolved hardships begin to flow in. Yet the hope remains, embraced within the joy of the only experience of its kind.

By Srishti Rastogi