So it rained again. One more time and along with the breeze it brought the warmth of your touch. The petrichore was conflated with your breath. Mirzaya, there isn’t a single moment when I don’t miss you but the rains rekindle the remembrance a little more.
Remember you told me you don’t like the harsh rain but you really really love the tipper tapper after it is over. You like how everything resumes motion just as the rains are over. You like to see movement and you hate stagnation. I have started becoming like you. Did you know that ?
I close my window when it rains heavily because I know you would have done the same thing. I open it just as it halts because just like you I have started loving the washed green sights more than the inclement rain scenes.
Mirzaya, as I sit at my window and look down I see a sight that you would have loved. There’s enough space here for both of us. We could snuggle here and watch it for hours. Till the time we meet let there be two windows and two sights, for neither of us should miss this marvel of mother nature.
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