Rain Drops in a Cup

There is a little shop where the passers-by stop. Whether they’re consumed with different thoughts or blessed with thoughtlessness, it may be hard to tell; but they all are here standing in a group, or in solitude, share the common purpose of drinking a cup of tea.

While I stood under the tree, enjoying my own share of happiness in a cup, the wind started to blow colder. I looked above in the sky through the green canopy and saw the clouds getting darker, and the consequences let me feel the first drops on my face. I stood still, unwilling to move, suddenly unaware of my surroundings. On a distant tree, I heard a bird singing.

“What bird is that?” I asked myself, quite certain that answer will be unknown to me. Oh, curse our ways. We try to identify things, shadowing it from our observations, never cherishing it in its true form.

The rain was still pouring all around and petrichor lingered in the moist air around. The dogs sheltered themselves under the shade of the temple that show cased a good number of deities made of stone and bricks, a pleasant piece of architecture. The birds were home, back to their nests after a day of hard work, never complaining about it. I looked around and suddenly a thought struck to me. I looked down on the parapet to find my cup of tea spilling like a sea whose waves knew no form of order. The rain drops fell on it and filled it to the brim, making it overflow with a joy which to me, was unknown.

The dark side of the moon was totally forgotten, but soon it would come out again to make the dusk wiser and more cynical. But now, a full moon shone brightly in the sky, bathing in its light everything that was seen to the human eyes; penetrating every soul that was standing there enjoying their cup of tea-in a group or in solitude.

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