Here’s a story I’m sure you all will like.

It was the rain that made me wonder this time. Tuesday’s morning that was, when I sat motionless in front of glass pane of the window of my house staring blankly at it. A close observation of the glass pane, that more or less reflected my image in itself was not the thing of wonder for me, while the rain that drenched the transparent-silica on the other side was. Drop after drop slid down by the pull of gravity was the perplexity of my cerebrum, that if its purpose is to wet the ground and everything residing over it, then why does everyone harbor away from it? I kept staring at it, thinking but not actually getting anything to calm my hunger of wanting to know. Having found nothing satisfactory, neither a spark toward the way to know, I got up, hoisted myself firm on the ground and stayed that way for a while, then let myself go to the door, grabbed an umbrella, opened the door and stepped outside in the rain in vain.
I started walking with umbrella over my head under the aqueous canopy of falling rain. It felt good; walking on the road with no destination to head toward, but in the pursuit of something that I started to doubt if did exist. The umbrella kept my head and the clothes on my torso dry, but the lower regions had already felt the signature of the rain: Moisture. My flip-flops were now invisible in the water; I would only see them whenever I would step forward, my feet and the pants below the knees were all wet, and as anticipated, the road was deserted with no peddler, no cycle, not even a car or dog for that matter. No sound except the pelting down of droplets at the fierce velocity on everything that came into their way. That’s when I decided to try the thing I was opting to ever since the rain started. That was the matter of a subtle second-long moment of decision and approval and then: I folded the umbrella, held it tailing behind me and faced the rain on my face. The drops with utter velocity hit my eyes, nose, cheeks, forehead and everything that came in their way. I was hundred percent wet for sure in less than a minute after I drew back the umbrella and stood under the pelting that came from pitch black clouds. First thing, after removal of umbrella, that came in my mind was: “It hurts.”
I could barely keep my eyes open while walking under the fury of such moist thing. One reason to hideaway from rain that I figured was that ‘It’s really hard walking and paying attention on the route during rain.’ But I persevered and walked on. Though I could not keep my eyes open , neither could I prevent the rain from hitting me THAT hard, but it wasn’t THAT bad. The water that splashed on my face came with great velocity and it sort of hurt me too, but the pain was not more than a smack of my mother’s hand whenever I teased or played a trick on her. That was lovely, no less.
Hundreds of drops pin all over you, and all you ever do is hide. I walked a little bit more, then reached to a sudden halt and looked up. My eyes could not hold on in that posture, so I had to close them. The question that I was asking myself all the time, I decided to share it; share it with the one it belonged to. I shouted with my eyes closed, “Give me one reason, why should I not hide from you?” I had no anticipation of getting back any reply from above, and I was beginning to feel a little sneeze-ey, so I decided to head back home. I turned, drew back open the umbrella and held it over my head. Another reason of hideaway: “Rain gives you sneezes.”
The next second, I was sneezing. As I looked forward, I saw a little kid, probably 3 or 4 years old, wearing a rain coat and boots of his size. I was astonished to see him. I did not walk to him, because before I could make any step forward, the kid started taking staggered steps toward me. The water on the deserted road was reaching up to his pants, but he did not stop walking toward me. It was a matter of a minute when he stood almost a feet away from me; one third of my height and million times cuter than any kid I had ever seen. He gestured me to sit down on knees. I followed. Now, when I was on my knees, he seemed a little less kid and more like an angel that met my height. He didn’t speak a word but gestured me to do things. His next gesture was for me to follow my hand toward him. I followed my hand. The rain seemed to fall on my hand, exclusively. He opened my fist with his cottony-soft hands and left my palm facing clouds, then, he let his tiny hands into a pocket of his water proof pants and brought out an envelope that became all drenched in the rain as soon as it came exposed. The kid put the envelope in my palm and turned to go. I took the envelope in both my hands and opened it. A hard, white, blank paper and a pencil were inside. I did not understand its meaning, so I called out, “Hey, kid! Stop!” The kid had gone till the place where I first saw him, stopped and turned toward me and shook his head in a calling gesture. I got it and followed the staggeringly walking kid on the waterlogged road. I took a few strides and came in level with the kid and walked under my umbrella. “Where do you live, buddy?” I said, that soon went into vain as I got no reply or any gesture. I didn’t ask again, but walked with him. I turned whenever he turned, I stopped and looked around whenever he stopped and looked around and I didn’t speak because he did not answer or question. I had lost the track of time, but the rain had not; it did not stop or fall with less intensity since this morning. Soon, we entered in a park which was deserted as all the areas were. We walked on and on until the little kid stopped. He turned to me and demanded for the envelope in his gesture language. I handed him that. He took the paper and pencil out, and kept the paper holding above the bench beside us and held the pencil gripped in his tiny fingers and wrote: “Do you really want to know?”
“Want to know what!?!” I asked surprised. As the boy was to write the answer to my question, the previous writing disappeared. I stared at it open-jawed.
“What the-?” I Iost my words on seeing Marauder’s Map like stuff going on the paper in that little boy’s hands.
“Why should you not hide from me?” The words, that the boy wrote next, glazed and imprinted in my eyes.
“Hide from you? Who are you?” asked I.
The words began to disappear and the new words started to appear as the little boy’s hand ran on the paper.
“You asked me to give you a reason. Now, here I am.” the words read.
“You’re kidding!” shouted I.
“No, I am here to answer you.”
“Okay, Harry Potter, I don’t know if you know anything about what I asked, but you surely know magic!” said I, having found no way to gobble up the situation in front of my eyes.
“I’m not Harry Potter.”
“Then who are you?”
“I am Rain.”
“Okay, I’ll consider for a while, you are Rain.”
“Yes, I am Rain. Do you not believe me?”
“I’m not sure about that.”
“You will believe, believe me!”
“Oh, really?”
“Put down your umbrella.”
“What? Why?”
“Do it just for a second.”
As I drew my umbrella down, I stood dumbstruck. It had stopped raining.
“How did you, Harry Potter!?!”
“I’m Rain.”
“Okay! Okay! I believe you! You’re Rain!”
“Yes, you asked me to give you a reason, right?”
“Yes, I want to know.”
“First, tell me, do you like rain?”
“Yes, I like it. I like getting hit by the tiny drops that make me blink every time I look up.”
“Why do you like it?”
“Er… I never quite thought about this. I just like it. Maybe, there’s no reason behind that.”
“You don’t always need reasons to do things.”
“Agreed, but why does everyone hide from you?”
“Because I am not always as pleasant as I seem, I wreak havoc sometimes, and there is a big flaw in me that I am unpredictable.”
“Oh, then?”
“Then what?”
“Should I not like you?”
“It is up to you what you want to see and believe, isn’t it? Discovering flaws or covering them up.”
“You’re right.”
“Are you satisfied?”
“How would I know that you are not going to go crazy?”
“That’s unpredictable for everyone, and we both do not want to challenge the nature, do we?”
“No. It’s fair enough. I’m loaded.”
“Great, so will you keep on liking me or hide from me just like everyone?”
“I like rain and will always do that, I won’t change anything just because you have a flaw. I have plenty of them myself. So no matter how bad you wreak havoc, you will always be called Rain, and I can live with that.”
“For what?”
“For understanding.”
“So it’s time we go back to our places, then?”
“See you, then?”
“Yeah, see you.”

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Hey guys.
Now that you have established me as a cyber-writer by reading and following me. A huge thanks to you. Really.
A friend of mine told me about this website where I could make some money out of pen. I really am digging the idea. Here’s one post I have done there. Please share the idea. Thanks a lot.
Here’s the link: http://www.patreon.com/posts/6556015


Is that sea that I’m seeing right now?
Or only a mirage somehow,
Consistent, yet changing,
Unbelievably huge as a martyr king.
That’s some story I see
That asks as if wants to be free
From the coastal limits of the infinite
And sail afar from its limit.
As unfinished as it may sound,
But this is all that I had found.


Beyond expectations lie the ventriloquists,
Controlling every shade of life.
Darker and lighter on perception
Are all, but wings in open sky.
Procrastination is better
If promises aren’t kept,
And never leave a stain on something
That you die off paying its debt.


Sour Shade of Solitude

Distinction among the livelihoods
Was clear enough to lay me down,
Silently; wayward life leading to woods
Was no more than a speck on crown.
‘So far so good’ wasn’t so good
Compared to the latches, digging in;
Gnawing the possibilities in the neighborhood
Of sustaining a life without giving in.
Take me down
To the earth’s end
Where leaves haven’t gone brown
And the lives don’t pretend.
Water beyond my soaring cherishes
Was something I’d never wished for!
Guess, I’d just leave this to hushes,
go oblivious and disgrace the four.