The Pearls of Catharsis Times Issue 03, Feb 2017 | Page 59

The slanting raindrops were caressing my nose , cheeks and arms partly and the puddles were drenching my legs . Even if you are carrying an umbrella , you get drenched anyway . Then what use is it ? I shut the umbrella and moved on . Now the raindrops were falling directly on me , but this time it was my soul which was getting washed up . All the sad memories diffused out and my mind was consumed with the buoyant ones . I realised that rainfall is not just falling of raindrops , it ’ s the renaissance of the soul . Meanwhile , my interpretation about rainfall was interrupted by a soft voice which was contrasting to the thunderstorm striking the heaven above . I didn ’ t exactly hear what he said . Maybe he said something like ‘ What is the way to …?’ and I had yet another philosophical answer to that ‘ Dark is the way and light is the place .’ But I kept my dying urge . What tantalized me was his voice . I had heard it before .
There was a boy . We recognised each other . We were two parted lovers who could never gather the courage to say those three words . But now that we were together and that too in such a burning weather , we could finally open our hearts out . I was about to open my umbrella , realising he might need it but he held my hand . So there we advanced , unfastening all the anchors of self control , pouncing into puddles , hands open wide to the raindrops , and singing out loud to the empty streets of town . We talked and talked , a paradigm of the jobless , like vagrants . For this moment , I could remain a vagrant forever .
The rain ceased and the sky had turned pitch-black . It was then that we realised we had to move to where we actually belonged , we could no longer live in our utopia . Oh , how I wished the rains never stopped ! And my wish did come true , but this time it was the shower in my eyes . A shower of happiness for our reunion or of despair that we had to part again , I couldn ' t tell . We took our ways and moved on .
He turned and looked back at me . No , I wasn ' t stupefied , I saw that coming . Now I couldn ’ t control my emotions . I let it go , ran towards him and hugged him tight . I was almost all over him . He counter-hugged me even more strongly , the most fierce opponent I ever faced . Gradually , the hold loosened and we knew the battle was coming to an end . And like two warriors , still struggling for a last chance to defeat the other , we didn ’ t let go of each other ’ s hand . Now the battle ended , the only difference being that none of the side won . Each was too strong to be defeated by the other . Counter attackers ? Counterparts .

Rainfall

The slanting raindrops were caressing my nose , cheeks and arms partly and the puddles were drenching my legs . Even if you are carrying an umbrella , you get drenched anyway . Then what use is it ? I shut the umbrella and moved on . Now the raindrops were falling directly on me , but this time it was my soul which was getting washed up . All the sad memories diffused out and my mind was consumed with the buoyant ones . I realised that rainfall is not just falling of raindrops , it ’ s the renaissance of the soul . Meanwhile , my interpretation about rainfall was interrupted by a soft voice which was contrasting to the thunderstorm striking the heaven above . I didn ’ t exactly hear what he said . Maybe he said something like ‘ What is the way to …?’ and I had yet another philosophical answer to that ‘ Dark is the way and light is the place .’ But I kept my dying urge . What tantalized me was his voice . I had heard it before .
There was a boy . We recognised each other . We were two parted lovers who could never gather the courage to say those three words . But now that we were together and that too in such a burning weather , we could finally open our hearts out . I was about to open my umbrella , realising he might need it but he held my hand . So there we advanced , unfastening all the anchors of self control , pouncing into puddles , hands open wide to the raindrops , and singing out loud to the empty streets of town . We talked and talked , a paradigm of the jobless , like vagrants . For this moment , I could remain a vagrant forever .
The rain ceased and the sky had turned pitch-black . It was then that we realised we had to move to where we actually belonged , we could no longer live in our utopia . Oh , how I wished the rains never stopped ! And my wish did come true , but this time it was the shower in my eyes . A shower of happiness for our reunion or of despair that we had to part again , I couldn ' t tell . We took our ways and moved on .

He turned and looked back at me . No , I wasn ' t stupefied , I saw that coming . Now I couldn ’ t control my emotions . I let it go , ran towards him and hugged him tight . I was almost all over him . He counter-hugged me even more strongly , the most fierce opponent I ever faced . Gradually , the hold loosened and we knew the battle was coming to an end . And like two warriors , still struggling for a last chance to defeat the other , we didn ’ t let go of each other ’ s hand . Now the battle ended , the only difference being that none of the side won . Each was too strong to be defeated by the other . Counter attackers ? Counterparts .

59

The slanting raindrops were caressing my nose, cheeks and arms partly and the puddles were drenching my legs. Even if you are carrying an umbrella, you get drenched anyway. Then what use is it? I shut the umbrella and moved on. Now the raindrops were falling directly on me, but this time it was my soul which was getting washed up. All the sad memories diffused out and my mind was consumed with the buoyant ones. I realised that rainfall is not just falling of raindrops, it’s the renaissance of the soul. Meanwhile, my interpretation about rainfall was interrupted by a soft voice which was contrasting to the thunderstorm striking the heaven above. I didn’t exactly hear what he said. Maybe he said something like ‘What is the way to…?’ and I had yet another philosophical answer to that ‘Dark is the way and light is the place.’ But I kept my dying urge. What tantalized me was his voice. I had heard it before. 

There was a boy. We recognised each other. We were two parted lovers who could never gather the courage to say those three words.

But now that we were together and that too in such a burning weather, we could finally open our hearts out. I was about to open my umbrella, realising he might need it but he held my hand. So there we advanced, unfastening all the anchors of self control, pouncing into puddles, hands open wide to the raindrops, and singing out loud to the empty streets of town. We talked and talked, a paradigm of the jobless, like vagrants. For this moment, I could remain a vagrant forever.

The rain ceased and the sky had turned pitch-black. It was then that we realised we had to move to where we actually belonged, we could no longer live in our utopia. Oh, how I wished the rains never stopped! And my wish did come true, but this time it was the shower in my eyes. A shower of happiness for our reunion or of despair that we had to part again, I couldn't tell. We took our ways and moved on.

He turned and looked back at me. No, I wasn't stupefied, I saw that coming. Now I couldn’t control my emotions. I let it go, ran towards him and hugged him tight. I was almost all over him. He counter-hugged me even more strongly, the most fierce opponent I ever faced. Gradually, the hold loosened and we knew the battle was coming to an end. And like two warriors, still struggling for a last chance to defeat the other, we didn’t let go of each other’s hand. Now the battle ended, the only difference being that none of the side won. Each was too strong to be defeated by the other. Counter attackers? Counterparts.

Rainfall

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