afternoon of a pre-empted solitude-the rain story of shyamalee.

There is a peculiar silence in the sky as it turns black.

There is a commotion in wind

and

trees are astutely stunned,

as if a rain is coming.

The birds stopped chirping and waiting for the first drop.
There it falls on a big leaf,

a tiny drop,

a thud like sound takes the leaf by surprise.

Before the leaf could react, it kisses her,

Tickles her

and jumps to the grass.

Now the symphony starts,

the grasses, the flowers, the leaves and the birds join the chorus:

rain has come rain has come.

Someone will come perhaps,

she opens the window to the
afternoon's veranda

gazing at the sky.

Wind talks to the trees

and the trees talk to the wind.