The rain comes. Uninvited but welcome, as always. The sun is down now, its almost night. The already darkening sky becomes even more so due to the cloud cover above. Everything’s hazy. Everything’s beautiful. Everything painted a dull white.
The rain has come and it’s washed everything with its colour. All white – the sky, the trees, the roads. The world suddenly looks cleaner – all the dirt washed away suddenly. It’s as if it needed the rain once in a while to purify itself.
You remove your glasses. They are the last thing you need right now. You lift your head to the white sky and close your eyes. The rain falls on your face, and for a moment, just for a moment, you feel that it has cleaned you too.
In the background, Gilmour sings –
The rain fell slow, down on all the roofs of uncertainty
I thought of you and the years of all the sadness fell away from me
The words don’t fit at all and fit just right at the same time. Combined with the rain, they produce a weird sensation, something like a cross between the most irrepressible ecstasy and the dullest ache.
3 comments:
so this is what u had wanted to talk about?
and i was lost in my own thoughts
ha
irony!
Fundoo likhte ho yaar ...
The best part is ki bhaiyya aasaani se samajh aa jaata hai ..huhh...Nimnlikhit kaaranon ki wajah se -
1. Bhaari angrezi ka use naa hona
2. Hawai naa maarna
3. Apne jhand jeevan pe naa rona
aur ........
(Dehati comment ki samapti)
Hum tahe dil se tamanna rakhte hai ki aap isi prakaar likhte rahenge. Par kripya zara jaldi jaldi post kiya kariye.
P.S - Whatever said in this comment is meant to be taken seriously.
arey tumko aisa kyun lagta hai ki main seriously nahi loonga...to get such critical comments on my post is indeed very flattering...and to get it from the Dood himself is a big big honour...thanks Dood...you rock!!
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