Crunchy fritters fry in frying pan
Water whistles in the electric kettle,
While chutney churns in a blender
Preparations are in full swing to welcome the rain.
Drop by drop the rain falls on tree tops,
Then hastens to a downpour , quenching the parched lawns,
And drenching leaves and flowers under its clear shower,
It streams down window panes washing away the dust.
Aroma of hot snacks deliciously blend with the petrichor, tickling taste buds,
Little fingers dig into fritters and watching the rain, cackle with fun,
Chiming in their rainy anecdotes elders sip tea from firmly held cups
and watch the steam rise and disappear in the mist.
I quietly slip away onto the balcony
To find my peace in the rain, undisturbed.
There is something mystical about it for when I watch the rain
A pleasant calmness seeps through my veins.
I refuse to listen to any chitter-chatter, not even of my brain,
But only listen to the pitter patter of the transparent rain,
For nothing more peaceful and soothing
I find, than the fragile music of the rain.