The Mesmerizing Rain

The breeze outside turns chilly and the sky hints of precipitation. She sits inside, completely engrossed in her phone, while the bus continues on it’s mundane journey.
 
She stopped texting momentarily, when a familiar scent of rain kissed soil wafted in through the window. She looks outside. Looks down at her phone, then looks outside again, this time longer. She sees buildings drenched in rain. Asphalt glistening like a black panther. Trees that look livelier than ever, fresh and green. Little plants droop, as if surrendering to it, as the rain pelts down on them.  Headlights of cars light a conical section of the rain, making it glimmer. 

She opens the window fully and puts her head out. She unclips her hair and lets it fall loose. Her bouncy tresses take a shower in the rain, turning moist and mellow. Raindrops trickling down her face rejuvenate her. For the first time in a long time, she feels alive. 

She’s reminded of her childhood days as she began to reminisce how she used to play in the rain. She vividly remembers one wintry night when she’d woken up to the sound of rain and thunder. She walked to the balcony and looked outside. Flashes of lightning lit the entire neighborhood, exposing all nocturnal life. The sound of the rain was unrivaled and melodious. She sticked her hand out and let it get soaked in the rain. She draped herself with her bedsheet and sat up all night staring outside, mesmerized. 

All these memories got her thinking, about the way her life had changed. She almost forgot what it is like to be wowed by nature. Watching it for herself, in person, felt so much better than viewing it on the phone. 

She put her phone away for the day and just sat by the window looking outside. Her hair now drenched with rain and her heart with nostalgia. 

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The Sunset Sky

Streaks of purple and tangerine, as far as the eyes can see. Somewhere I see a hint of blue, peeking out from the gradient of colors. Birds are little pecks, wandering about in empty space. Trees are dark shadows, silhouettes against the sky. The air is still, retiring for the day. The atmosphere isn’t electric, but rather melancholic. The sun steals glances from gaps between buildings. And as the orange giant bids goodbye, it leaves behind soft rays that grace the sky.

 

This transitional moment is a magnificent sight. Every moment, is consistently random. Every sight, more beautiful than before. Every day it’s the same colors, the same sun, the same sky. But something makes it unique, every time. The slowly changing gradient accentuates the vastness of the sky. Never in the day is the sky more interesting. The sun keeps setting, leaving all his artwork behind. Eventually, the artist, tired for the day, spills ink over the canvas and rests for the day.

The Beautiful Monsoons

Drops of silver splash on the mud, splattering on the leaves that make them sway in rhythm. Birds chirp away their tensions, announcing the rain to far away places. The front yard is lush with bright green leaves that glint in the faint sunlight filtering through the clouds. The sweet smell of wet soil diffuses in the air. Little channels of water slither away to find pools of muddy water. Paper boats sail their way down the stream that blankets the road.

I sit by the window, and witness the magic unfold. It never seems to get boring because every scene happens to be unique. Although these events aren’t unprecedented, their randomness keeps my idle watch interesting. Rain, I feel, has a way of beautifying things.

Cloudy overcast gets me excited. I enjoy reading a novel by the window while sipping hot tea. I occasionally look out while flipping through pages. I put on my headphones and listen to songs sometimes. There’s always a conflict while choosing between the two pass-time activities.

At times I end up gazing aimlessly. The moody atmosphere makes me crave for tranquility. Random thoughts swirl in my mind. Memories surface, triggering nostalgia. It makes me poetic and rekindles the author in me. Hence this thought journal.