When the Sky Pours, the Soul Listens

Dark clouds crowd the clear sky, soon to flood the roads, while it seemed as though the mountains grinned. The fresh green leaves appear to have had a bath, adorned with dewdrops that give off a glow.

The most unavoidable feeling is the smell of wet mud after a hard shower—it gives that comforting sense of belonging, like home. It's quite ironic yet refreshing to see nature happy for once, while we sulk over flooded encroachments and power cuts.

Each drop of rain brings memories of the past, making me rewind to the days when we made paper boats and let the rain drench us. The busy buzz of the mind quietens to listen to the rhythms of the rain and the gushing winds.

We seem to have grown when we catch ourselves staring at the sky as it pours its heart out—maybe just wondering if those juggling confusions will find ground to fall on, just like the earth is always ready to catch the rain.

- Bharathi Senthilkumar

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Apathy's Anchor

A lone tree claimed the land, Lost in its own silence . It held fast , though winds did roar, And birds sang, unheard . Fixed in its gaze , The cows moved, the clouds drifted. For how could a rock ever truly smile? Or a desert ever truly weep? - Bharathi Senthilkumar

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The tabooed thoughts

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