Strange

It beats on my window, beckons me to wake up. It is as much of an attention seeker, as you or me. With great effort, I half-open my eyes, as if there were weights pulling my eyelids down. I climb out of bed and walk to the window, to acknowledge the grey rain. Beaming in this new found glory, it starts pouring down even more ferociously. I wonder.. its not really grey, is it? How can it be? Water is transparent. It is colourless. Yet this rain has both form and colour. And it has company. The wind howls like an abandoned child. It does not compete for attention. It collaborates. It dances, along with the rain, in random movements and random directions. Nothing beyond a few meters is visible. The shapeless and the formless have together blocked out the world from my eyes. And suddenly, I think of you. And think of a million other things. I leave my window and sit on my bed. Thoughts inside my head are going all over the place, much like the wind outside my window. And then it settles down, again, on you. Its strange. The rain did not bring back any memories. Infact, I have no memories of you and the rain. Yet, it reminded me of you. I miss the silences which make up most of our conversations. I miss the pauses. I miss...
Intoxicated by my thoughts, I am put to bed by the disturbing lullaby of the wind outside. Things being to fade... I start wondering if the morning was a dream. I remember just one thing from it: how badly I miss the sunshine.


The brightness almost blinded me. The warmth almost cooked me. I open one eye, to slowly take in the sunlight. Like a child, it smiles. Like an adult, who wishes to humour the child, I smile back. The rain is forgotten, like a lost love. No mention, no sign. I walk to the window again, and everything outside is bathed in sunshine. Its like an old city, washed hurriedly in patches, and now put out to dry. Its like a badly done cleaning job. But the sun shines. And I step out to drink in this light, for which I was so thirsty yesterday. Its hot. It burns my skin and reaches my bones. My bare feet carry me back inside in a hurry, as if I was walking on burning coals, in some religious act that I lost faith in right after my first step. Once inside, I close my eyes, hoping for sleep, but once again, I see your face. Strange, I have no memories of you and the sunshine. But I remember you. Its all a blur after that, and I remember just one thing from it: how badly I miss the rain.