Monsoon memories …

by

Sometimes I feel a long phase of not writing is so annoying, and for that very reason, it seems to come to me more often than I want it to. So here I am, attempting to break that annoying phase by joining the Ultimate Blog Challenge in July. Honestly, it was not my idea, but this Ishithaa told me I must. So a deal was brokered and we’re doing posts on the same theme each day. (Like A to Z Challenge in April). The theme for day 1 was Monsoon.

UBC DAY 1 – MONSOON MEMORIES (A STORY)

 

It was a clap of thunder that woke him up. The digital clock on his bedside table showed 2:38.

Standing at his windowsill, he could see the rain falling on to the asphalted road, as black as the night sky above. He pushed his window open a little, and sat on the sill, letting the watery blanket hit him partly.

Of the umpteen memories he had of rain, one fell into his heart with a drop that landed on his wrist.

The small café outside the college was crowded, as it always was when it was raining cats and dogs outside. The two of them rushed in, knowing that the interior would be vacant. The crowd only wanted shelter from the rain, and would part once it stopped. Their usual table in the corner was free, and they sat down. Within a minute, Raju uncle would bring them a plate of hot samosas, with sweet sauce or pudina chutney. Keeping their umbrellas and bags to a side, they began to talk of the exam that had just got over. They talked till the samosas came, and then they ate. Afterward, he noticed some of the flakes from the samosa still on her lips. With just a finger, he wiped them away, and was greeted by her smile. He wondered when his heartbeat was faster… touching her lips, or seeing her smile. They had been together for many years, but that feeling, it never changed.

Another clap of thunder stirred him out of his reverie. The watch showed 3:00 but he didn’t feel like even a minute had elapsed. He remembered something, and went down to his kitchen. The evening’s samosas were still there. After heating it, he put it on a plate, and came back to the windowsill, and sat watching the clouds part and a sliver of moonlight break through.

He shook off the raindrop that had clung to the ring on his finger, and looked up.

“See, you are always with me,” he whispered, and took a bite.

Near the moon, a star twinkled happily.

This story is a work of fiction. Resemblance to anyone in real life is coincidental.

(1st July 2014)

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Poetry & writing are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

40 thoughts on “Monsoon memories …”

  6. Ah!! Rains!! Brings out the best and worst in us!! And in your case – your best! 😀
    nice one Leo and yes, our loved ones never truly leave us do they? 🙂

  15. Touched by the ending..loved the sweet simple writing style. Great start to UBC. U literally made me feel Mumbai monsoon- from your posts.

    • Ah. Guess the monsoon has a similar influence on your memories, Viyoma 🙂 Thank you, and glad you liked the post.

  18. wow! its beautiful 🙂 bt the ending, i didnt see it coming! true love is forever, death isnt a boundary..

  19. Rain couldn’t be more beautiful than it was in your post. Love and rain both actually. Amazing 🙂 Looking forward to lots more in this month 🙂

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