Excerpt from my

conversation with rain..

It was 8 of February. The wind hissing like a
serpent shaking everything in its path seemed
to give a premonition of a !erce storm. I was
sitting by the side of the window of my room.
The sky engulfed by the dark and murky clouds
too seemed to cry for freedom. The room
sheltering me was a compact and droning
shack kind of structure. "y roommates having
gone to visit their home town I was left alone
to introspect and live my illusions. The solitude
seemed to overpower me right now. I started
feeling the atmosphere around me trying to
communicate with me. These inanimate things
surrounding me became my ob#ect of deep
thoughts. $ust outside the window I could see
the rain paltering synchronous with the hissing
of the wind. They seemed to make a
remarkable melody. I was lead by a surprise
when a voice broke my solitude. This voice was
even sweeter than the most enticing melodies
of nightingale and was e%ually calming as the
lullaby of my mother. I turned around but
couldn&t !nd anything. I slighted o' all the
suspicions and again continued ga(ing outside
the small window trying to communicate with
the passing things outside. )gain that noise
broke the silence. I reali(ed that it was the rain
trying to tell me something in its vague voice.
It said a thing which took me by surprise. *ow
could it possibly see the void in my eyes+ *ow
could it #udge the longing in my eyes for the
person I cherish in my life+