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Raindrops — By Vijay Rao

Raindrops brings in memories, longing & pain of someone’s absence. Read this beautiful piece  by Vijao Rao on our writing prompt #Raindropsonpaper .
 
As I sat by the window in my favourite chair a cool breeze wafted through the open door and enveloped me in a pleasant embrace, I took a deep breath and as I experienced the heady fragrance of rainwater uniting with the earth for the first time, I felt a rush of adrenalin. I knew instantly that it would soon rain and that it was probably already raining somewhere else in the city.
I waited eagerly with bated breath like a peacock waiting for the first rains to spread its feathers and dance to the heavenly music of rain drops beating a rhythm on the earth.
 And then I heard the first sound of raindrops, a soft pitter-patter as small rain drops started falling on the window sill which slowly increased to a crescendo as the rain bore down heavily on the parched earth.
I pulled my jacket closer as I felt a sudden chill because of the rain and the strong wind now blowing through the open window, as I did so as if on cue the heavens roared thunderously and a slight tremor went through my body and I felt a strange fear envelop my very being.
I gripped the arms of the chair tightly as the rain intensified outside, the music of the raindrops falling on the earth had now turned into an unbearable cacophony and the rumbling thunder seemed to signal the advent of some unknown doom.

As the rain intensified, I was literally shivering with cold and was sick with fear, fear of the unknown.

Where is she? I wondered, why has she still not come?
It was then that the cold realization dawned on me.
She would never come. She was dead and gone, and I would never feel her warm touch again.
I started sobbing as rain water splashed my face and mingled with the tears flowing freely from my eyes.
 
And then I felt a strong hand on my shoulders, and as I turned away from the window, I was enveloped in a strong, warm embrace. I smelt the all familiar faint smell of tobacco mingled with the strong fragrance of cologne.
 
Dad! My mind screamed and I hugged him tightly, all my fears evaporating like smoke.
As he sat in his armchair with me snuggled in his arms, one of his hands gently stroking my head, I could hear the heavenly music of rain drops beating a tattoo on the window sill, and I wondered how raindrops looked like, how my mother would have looked like and how my father looked, I was sure they were all beautiful. I wish I could ask him how my mother looked like, but I could not.
I was imprisoned in a body that could neither see nor speak, but I thanked God that I could listen, this was my window to the world.
 
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