Written on a Rainy Day


Rainy days and Sundays have something in common
Both are beautiful and both uncommon

Rainy days fill me with a secret pleasure
Like a sudden unexpected treat to treasure
You're compelled for a moment to stop, to see
Out the window, the gulmohar tree
Then you close your eyes and hear the sounds
Of nature's pitter patter drum beat going around
You pause for a moment, take a deep breath
and smell the musky fragrance of a freshly soaked earth
And the newly born babe snuggles closer in your arms
Looking wide eyed at magical worldly charms.

Rainy days are all wilderness and haze
While on a more urbane note, we'll talk of Sundays.

A week full of toil, a week filled with stress
Sundays allow you to decompress
You think you will fulfill all your desires
you work the countdown, through the six days prior.
Sunday arrives with promises in wake
of a lazy morning and a fun filled day.
As the day wears on, you're uncomfortably aware
that tomorrow you will not have such leisure to spare.
The beauty of Sundays lies in the fact
you know there is only one in a seven day act.

Some would have Rainy days over Sundays
some, the other way around.
And some would rather, have both together.
While some would, quite honestly, not bother with either.
But I would want an equal measure
of Rainy Days and Sundays - of beauty and leisure.

:)