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"Rain, Rain Go away Come back another day"
Growing up we all have read this poem and even sung it when the lines paved their way from the depths of treasures called childhood memories to our lips when we come across some peaceful rainy day as it did now, not because I wanted it to 'go away' but it brings the same elation as it used to when the five-year-old me would add syllables and pronounce them in return would receive smiles and praises.
Recalling those sweet memories brings a smile, as I looked at the rainwater-dripping glass of the windowpane and listened to the peaceful melody whose sole verses were the pitter-patter sound as if telling a story of their own.
My eyes drifted towards the hood of the windows, raindrops falling from the edges to the ground below in the small depressions made by the constant falling of the droplets on the soil.
Wonder how,' A small change might do nothing but these small changes only become a part of a big revolution'.
I looked down at the green grass, half-submerged in the rainwater accumulated amid the grasses, a drop fell from the eternal sky on a grass blade, it wiggled due to the velocity due to which the droplet slid down the glass blade and got added in the union below.
I watched all this, sitting beside the window with my hands tucked under my chin, my head resting on it. My body in solace, ears perched up trying to listen to every small voice possible while thousands of thoughts whirling in my head.
Slowly the downpour reduced to a drizzle and at last, it stopped leaving just the drops on the different surfaces as a reminder that 'I came'.
