Short showers

It has just stopped raining. The shower came at its appointed time, the 7 o’clock hour every evening. Falling drops quickly merged into a strong, steady curtain, like always. The rain fell with assurance, unhurried yet consistent in pounding the ground. As if to say, this is what is meant to be, now, this moment, so don’t worry about anything else because nothing else can be. There is no rush, because I am all there can be.

And then, when a few minutes have passed, it stops. As quickly as it began, it withdraws, graciously pulling back completely so that there is no mess, like drizzle, to deal with. It reminds me of the ebb and flow of waves reaching the shore and going back, leaving dampness as the only sign they were there. When the purpose is fulfilled, there is no reason to prolong presence.

Life resumes in other ways, the sounds of people and dogs and autos pick up. Above my head, I hear the fan whirring, as if nothing happened.

About Archana

I'm Indian and Canadian, and many other countries in between. I read comics every morning and believe the world could do with slowing down.
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