As the first shower of monsoon knocks on my window,
I go out there
searching for you, for you promised me you’d come when the rains do. Now here I am,
singing in the rain
thinking about you. As I begin to hum, I start to miss you. I think of how I haven't met you in months
and wonder how you must be. The rain drops caressing my cheeks
remind me of your beautiful kiss; the sense of rain leaving the sky
and falling like a fleet,
just like this pandemic,
that won't let us meet; I'm jealous of the pillow that you lock in your arms
and the stars that get to see you when you sleep; I envy the shallow mirror that absorbs your beauty so deep. I wonder if you would also be standing in your garden singing in the rain, our favorite song, does it also cross your mind? I realize the rain just fooled me,
you never came. How could you come baby, unless the world gets back to its normal pace? I'll wait till the time cars start to run and
people start to crowd outside gates and
when masks don't suffocate. Until then, I'll be singing in the rain thinking about you,
for I am a leaf, and you, the droplet of dew.
- Tanya Tripathi
B.Com (Hons.), 2nd year
(Edited by Khushboo and Pallavi
Art Curated by Devangana Rathore)
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