By Mir Umar
The silver round pearls coming all away from the seventh sky grabs a call from clouds and crucifies each sky to reach us. When these diamond pearls reach us, they first kiss the barren fields that have been yearning for it. They fall with a similar velocity but as the thundering gets intense and lightning strikes, they variably change their speed. Rain is an innate friend of nature that purifies every creature resting in it. Be it trees or barren fields, they welcome its arrival. Its drops reach every hill, touch the stony layers and stroke back in dark alleys and reach the streams and rivers. When they spread their spiritual hands on the barks of craving trees and empty branches, a new spirit of life rejuvenates there. They are seeds of spring, music of monsoon on which nightingales openly sing symphonic songs and praise it.
While zephyrs accompany rain, it breaks the bond of separation between a lover and a beloved and also connects me with my words. Rain always spreads peace around us. Though it crooks some souls but the sensitive one feels it. It creates an ambiguous of happiness for them. It always carries a message for the woods, the trees that wait for its arrival swaying their branches on the breeze of rain. It gives a new life to the tortured trees that from separation from it had soaked down, exposing their naked body to the world. When rain touches the ached bodies of trees, a new soul gets evolved.
When raindrops put their lacerating kisses on the branches of trees and melting hugs on the barks, these give them a new life. Rain sets a layer of moisture on the trees so that their pain gets paddled and they bloom in spring.
Through each stream, rain flows with new ambitions. The small pebbles enjoy a partial meeting with rain, displacing new sounds when the rain drops strike with them. Rain tinges every stone in the stream while itself leaving for a deep slumber of sadness. From its limited arrival on this earth, it makes intricate moments – worth remembering.
Rain acts as a purifier for loved ones. It gives them a moment of joy. On my walking through rain, I saw a couple walking under a little umbrella to seek a partial detachment from raindrops and from the world. While walking, their shoulders were meeting with each lovable step. Rain drops were swiftly touching their shoulders on dropping from the silver nibbles of umbrella. Under the shelter, they feared less the people as the world was little more their own. Their cold hands were feeling each other’s coldness rather nervousness as they both were holding the umbrella with each other’s hands. Rain was splashing against the streets and their feet were crunching the silver pearls. Feeling each other’s whispers in the sound of rain, their souls got mixed and they disappeared in the strips of rain.
Rain always gives me moments of happiness and a reason to write for it. It arouses my emotions, flurries my pain and evolves a new well spring of life inside. For every character, rain has something beautiful and special. Only you need to recognize it from the soul’s eyes.
—The author is a student of Literature and can be reached at: firstname.lastname@example.org