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.