Saturday, 10 May 2014

Picture Courtesy:

Little droplets of water slipped to join the tiny rivulets formed at the base of window, giving the view outside a hazy look from the inside. Outside, the sky looked angry with ominous looking clouds trying to shoo the sun away. Funny, the weather man had predicted a sunny day. But the now gray-black cotton balls high up there seemed otherwise. 

The wind, already wet with telling signs of a brewing storm, lashed mercilessly on the poor pedestrians running into the tiny chapel to take shelter. 

The church bell swayed dangerously screeching 'ding-ding-ding' in warning. With a last hint of perseverance the sun gave in and disappeared letting gloom take over the hamlet. 

Having triumphed, the rain swept up as the wet winds whooshed through every thing and one that came in its way. But Joe remained calm. Today the rains couldn't touch him. Nestled in the warm comfort of his home, the winds could not perturb him. His garden was a mess what with a mucky gloop for a sandpit, bushes overthrown and a tilted bird bath. 

It did not affect him. Not anymore at least. Anne would have been pissed. She would have ranted, yelled, stomped about much to Joe's delight and he wouldn't hear the end of it until the sun shone brightly the next day. But only Anne wasn't around. 

How they had hated the rains! It had ruined many a dates for them at the foothills of the mountains in whose valley lay their hamlet. They had visited often, first as children, then friends, lovers and finally, as man and wife. They loathed how the rains rendered the mountains slippery, icky and full of muddy slush. How it prevented them from taking their picnics and how it ruined Anne's pretty shoes. Joe wasn't against rains but that was until he met Anne. 

She loved the sunny weather, the warmth and chirping of birds, and so much more. There was no chirping of birds today nor was Anne. Nor was there the lush garden she had tended too. Anne had left him several years ago. It had rained that day and Anne was wearing her favourite shoes. 

He was heartbroken but he had to let her go. It had taken him 12 years to reach this day... A day finally when the rains couldn't touch him. It's cold, wet and clammy hands could not reach him. 

His life had revolved around Anne and it was only fitting that when he decided to join her in heaven, it would rain too. Laying in his casket, The ever-smiling Joe  need not worry about the rains anymore. 


Mihir said...

well written and as always, delighted to read.

Nikita Banerjee Bhagat said...


Thank you :)

anilkurup said...

To be honest with you, I notice a poetry in your writing. You sort of painted a wonderful picture of the valley, the village doused in rain and the mood of the protagonist.
I guess there was no gloom inthe air or the man but perhaps eagerness to be with Ann.
The power of rain!

Nikita Banerjee Bhagat said...

@Anil Kurup

Thank you so much!

Swati said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Swati Dwivedi said...

The end is beautiful!Keep writing!

Nikita Banerjee Bhagat said...

@ Swati

Thanks! I will:)

Jeeves said...


luckee said...

Wow. That is some good writing

Nikita Banerjee Bhagat said...


Thank you :)

Nikita Banerjee Bhagat said...


Thank you!


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