Monsoon

I told Suraj to fix this ceiling. Rainy season is at the door and raindrops always find a way to irritate me, even in the form of leaking from my rooftop.

Pitter patter, the raindrops chhatter

Frustrated I cry hard and they get silent later.

Raindrops are sadistic. They burn my skin. These drops contain poison and their presence on my body burns my soul.

I don't know why I started hating rain.

I hate the corner most window in my room. It is also the only window that my room has.

That window is so useless that even the raindrops can escape it.

"Shanti, clean the water on my floor when you are done with the dishes." I called out to Shanti and get back on my armchair laying back in the position before I was disrupted rudely because of this noisy rain.

I see my husband jumping and laughing in the rain almost looking like a toddler who has seen rain for the first time in his life. I see his happy, carefree face as he chases the raindrops as if playing hide and seek with these 'heavenly drops' or so, as he calls.

I lit up my ciggratte and took a long puff as if stating how tired I am of my life by exhaling one single puff in Air. I remembered suddenly the quote of a John Green novel, "you smoke to enjoy and I smoke to die". This quote was so relatable at this point of time.

I often wonder when did I become so gloomy and so indifferent towards everything in life. Long curly messed up hair n I don't even bother to comb them, dried up skin n I don't even bother to apply a moisturizer. I didn't see to my husband and kids for years I guess, but I have talked to them or maybe have seen my husband dancing in rain from that window. You know what he loved rain. He said rain brought him peace, and that time it brought me peace too. But I didn't realise when I started hating rain so much that the very sound of raindrops burns me, my heart, my soul and shatters me into broken powdery parts. I break a little with every monsoon and shatter a little more when they remind me of "US".