Satoma Asadgamaya

In Memory

Migrated Datasets


Sunday, April 01, 2007

On a Rainy Day

My neglected blog has been clamouring for my attention. If only it knew that the reason for its neglect is not a lack of attention. Rather it is the lack of verbose invention, which is far more difficult than it ever used to be.

It had been raining all day for the most part. Puddles of water had formed on the roads in my apartment complex. The clouds had probably decided to take a break; but the leaves were still dripping and the grass was still glistening. The scene was very green, the greenest of all greens. I saw this little kid, no more than two or three, traipsing along with a lady who I assume was her mother. Everytime the kid saw a puddle, her face would light up with wonder and joy. And she would kick at the puddle with her tiny feet and splash the water. Her smile was something the cheshire cat would have been proud of. But, just as the cat does, she disappeared as well.

I stood there awhile, thinking I might try and drown encumbering thoughts in those tiny puddles. I did not do so. Maybe my shoes were too expensive.

Management Class : Meandering thoughts of a fickle mind

mental baba 10:37 AM | pathar ka lakeer | 4 baba ka katora |