The Rain which was not acidic!

The windshield wipers worked vigorously to wipe of the accelerated droplets of rain, as if shaking off the rusted existence which summer wrought upon it.

The first rain catches so many of us unawares but brings joys of freshly soaked soil to us. The first rain which was not laden with sulphur when we were small. It was just first rain, time to run up the stairs to the terrace, spread the arms, taste the drops and jump on the small puddle forming on the unfinished terrace floor.

The first rain which brought the football out, quickly inflated and kicked. The unbalanced run, the sliding fall, the newly wet soil leaving mud marks on your clothes, who cared?

The hot cup of tea and fritters somehow suddenly started tasting star rated, as if they can sense humans don’t love anything else other than us as the first heavy shower keeps pattering on the roof.

Someone is honking, serpentine traffic, could it have not rained after I reached home?

Two kids were running somewhere on the footpath, drenched but happy!