bhaskar saikia

It’s raining outside—raining after what feels like an eternity. The world slows down and a hush falls over everything, save for the rhythmic drumming of raindrops against the earth. Unlike other days, today feels different. But then again, isn’t every day different? We often tell ourselves that monotony exists, but in truth, no two days are ever the same. Nature ensures it.

As I watch the rain descend upon this remote hamlet, I see how it transforms the familiar. The winding street, the old well, the few lampposts that flicker in the mist and the open moor beyond— it all becomes something else, something dreamlike. The clouds lower themselves upon us, as if embracing the land, whispering secrets only the wind can carry.

Beyond the veil of rain, where the mountains meet the sky, my vision is obscured. Yet, my other senses sharpen. I can smell the scent of damp earth and grass, the freshness of meadows and pastures from the highlands where the sheep roam freely. It is a scent that evokes memories of simpler days, of running barefoot on wet grass, of childhood laughter lost in the wind.

Night falls, and the world is painted in shades of grey and silver. The wind picks up, rustling the leaves in a perfect symphony—Nature’s own orchestra, playing an eternal tune. It is beautiful, this moment. The rain sings, and I listen. There are moments of intensity, when thunder rumbles in the distance, deep and foreboding. A reminder that nature is powerful, unpredictable. Yet, there is comfort in the storm, a strange kind of peace. Rain has a way of washing away more than just dust; it cleanses the soul.

Perhaps that is why I love the rain. It is not just water falling from the sky. It is poetry in motion, an unspoken promise of renewal. It reminds me that change is constant, that no storm lasts forever, and that after every downpour, the earth breathes anew.

Tonight, as I sit by my window, watching the world shimmer under the gentle cascade, I am reminded of the simple joys of life. The sound of rain, the smell of wet earth, the music of the wind—these are the moments worth cherishing.

The rain is beautiful. And so is this fleeting, precious moment.