Monsoon at Pune

a wool blanket,

the way it scrapes.

cheap slippers on the feet,

jumping in water puddles on cold wet concrete... 

the smell of earth intoxicating the soul,

streaky windows are a picturesque stroll, 

life is a bliss,

letting  perfect golden little light in our morning kiss...

The rain,

it makes the nature hum,

playing romance on soft drums,

making our days lazy and fun

The sky turns white as angels,

there is a new freshness in the air,

you feel the gift and it's flair,

The drenched hitch

the first attempt,

at homemade 'pakoras'

Another film

with friends and drinks

Mending thoughts

of the ones that were lost

Making plans

of visiting faraway places

remembering, 

that hardwood and her cute little cup,

her coffee,

our love

Weather she wanted it or not.

P.S . : There is something about rains that makes me want to pour my thoughts here. After-all it's monsoon time , so it has to rain in rainville :) .

To my readers , I've missed you all. 

Cheers!!!