I am not feeling too well today and I want to be in my room in my home town. And it should rain. Oh, yes rain with the fog covering the opposite hills and washing everything back to clean and green, water everywhere.
The fresh air and the loud thunderclap. Breathing it in. The petrichor makes me so happy. The crazy winds, the whooshing sound, and everybody running to get their cattles back to the sheds, running to fetch their clothes hanging for line-drying and people trying to find some cover.
All the chaos that ensues because the winds are determined to take something with that force. Scared animals hiding in their burrows. It pours!
The streams that were dry these past months flow again, the muddy water crashes on the boulders, those rocks so adamant singing along with the waters gushing through them and over them, flowing so fast.
And then it all stands still.
Everything and everyone soaking the silence in. The people brought together; strangers under same sheds, friends at tea stalls, and families in their houses chatting up, enjoying the down pour.
The birds chirp again and silence is broken. Everything comes back to life. There is no hustle no bustle today but the stillness surrounding the hills envelopes my soul in peace taking me there where I have not been in a while, with the reminiscent plop, plop, plop left behind.