It’s been raining

women rush to collect the clothes drying

men hush children getting wet outside

to the confines of the homes

the waters gushing

are cleaning years of guilt, sins and pains

a few birds dance

the street dogs rejoice initially

then look for cover

for sometime at least

the rains have diverted much wasteful attention

from the differences of ‘us’ and ‘them’

and mostly everyone is digging into their biriyanis

dressed in the aroma of spices

after much heckling

I am at peace too

while resting under the slow swirl of the fan blades

I keep half an eye open

to catch the surprises life springs upon me

it has not been amusing always

to be caught unprepared

but time has taught and healed

and made stronger a will

pickled in pain and hurt

to blossom in smiles and hopes

while in some part of the world

a few men dribble a ball around

and others dance to their tunes

caught in the business of living

we rarely have time for breathing

what do the rain gods see

do we seem different

or do they feel indifferent?