Whispers of the clouds

"Take away my wealth and take away my fame,

You can snatch away my youth from me too,

Just return the monsoon of my childhood,

The same paper boat and the very same rain!"

These beautiful lines by Sudarshan Faakir, a well-known Indian poet, reminds me of an earthy breeze and the cool caress of rain showers on my face.

Children of the sky. Photo: Jahid Apu

It is not easy to define the feeling of the 'first rain' of the season. 

I sense the rain before it finds me, even before the pitter-patter on the window draws me to the sill.

Making a Splash. Photo: Jahid Apu

For me, the most special rains are the ones that come before the monsoon season itself, colloquially known as 'mango showers'. 

Torrential downpour of happiness. Photo: Jahid Apu

It is like a festival for the thirsty, parched earth rejoicing at every drop of vivifying moisture. I can smell the freshness left behind by the cleansing of the grime with each heavenly drop.

Childhood: where rain must fall. Photo: Jahid Apu

The rain soaks deep into my bones with a bittersweet heartache. 

The Beauty of Inner Conflict. Photo: Jahid Apu

The first rain is what makes the monsoons unforgettable. The whispers of the clouds always mention silver linings to me every year.