It is a mystery how even from within my office building , from behind the tinted crystal windows it is the memory of my grandmother’s house which is making the rain look exceptionally beautiful. When I watched the rain all I could think of was the rain I used to watch from my maternal house.
The water flowing down from the reddish brown tiles ,the music of rain clattering on the tiled roof , the warmth of my cousins cuddling next to me…
I miss them all.
The old house is no more , cousins have gone far away , grown older and more responsible . But yet I am glad I still meet them in my memories... the rain brings them all to me.
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