And it is raining again. Causing contrasting expressions and noises. Groomed houses that stand with pride are locking the doors and windows and adding a beat to the rhythm of rain. Huts are perforated and their dwellers are outside raising their face towards the sky, yearning to be touched by the rain.

School girls giggle and chatter as they play high jumps over puddles. Umbrellas become rooms for couples and strangers. An old lady sits with indifference as she watches the prolonging showers. The rain delivers a defeaning sound to a mother, who is awaiting her child’s arrival. Smell of pakoras overpower the Petrichor and draws people to pour money on a poor man’s hands.

Some hearts ache. Some hearts beat. While the rest repeat
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