A budding writer's collection

Just a monsoon day

It's a day in monsoon. The clouds are ever-present waiting for the 'action!' call. The sun squeezes in every now and then, lest people forget him. The sky is the title card of today's movie: the grey dismal clouds shrouding the sun and its passion to shine, a tinge of blue making its way in the grey. There's hope for an orange, rusty sunny day after all!

The walk through the silent street is accompanied by the countless 'caws' of a murder of crows, and a dog lying on the pavement, baring its teeth, preparing to bark. A little girl runs ahead of her mother, her adorable giggles winning a smile from the lady walking across the street from me.

I make my way to the supermarket to gather the never-sufficient supplies. My eyes fall on two brothers eyeing a candy. The problem was that it was the last of its kind. The elder one says, "Go on, take it. I had a chocolate bar just yesterday. So here's yours." The shorter kid with unruly hair looks up at his brother and nods his head silently, his lips forming a loving smile.

The park on the opposite end is painted with scattered people. Some on the benches to enjoy the breeze, a handful jogging with their heads bobbing to the beats from their headphone. A couple caught my sight as they lay on the swing, holding hands in silence. The guy must have cracked a joke, for the woman hit him playfully on the arm, her face squeezed into a hearty grin. I smile to myself.

The beauty of an early morning stroll is such. The carefree moments in the first act of the day, the half-asleep lazy walk through the street, the enthusiastic greeting from your early-bird neighbor, the groan from the kids as they leave for school—no worry can snatch away the magic of the world in its wake.