Like this:

The thunder roars like they are bowling boulders up in the heavens with sparks of lightning dazzling as it hits the rut.The sky covered with clouds, thick, wide & midage grey .The sepia light spread across, filling the view with mild haze like it has just been wiped with a big moist sponge.The cool breeze blows smoothly through young palm trees ,picking pace every time it swirls around the vacant plots.The birds drifting back  home with a frown on their faces  for the day cut short ,chirping out their frustration as they hung on to the swaying trees.The dry heat stricken land lets out a sweet smell of relief announcing the world that its thirst has just been quenched by the elixir from above.

The rains had arrived.

I shut the rattling bay window, wiping off the wet semi octagonal cabinet formed within it.The rain had ruined all my plans to go out and meet a friend.Now I was stuck here with no power,a dead laptop & a mobile with no balance..all combined lead to one common, very big concern..no facebook.As the drizzle hit the window pane, I sat on the bench cum cupboard cum wardrobe cum dumpster, holding a novel (which I had been intending to complete..ah..well, start for a week) staring at the spattered droplets slowly streaming down as if   the glass was melting away to oblivion. I don’t know if my grandma would approve of me sitting so close to the action.I remember her strictly ordering us chingu-pingus ,who had arrived during vacations, to move into a room in the interiors & close all the windows & sit in the center of the room.She used to sit near the door & recite to us,in her slow grainy voice, story of how lightning had stuck at the veranda of a neighbor (in village a guy staying 5 km away is neighbor) & he had lost his eye sight  sitting by the window.We know it is crazy now but then…then it scared the shit out of us.As I started to read the prelude to the novel I could hear few screams coming from outside.It was from the neighboring children playfully jumping around &  down the stream of muddy water flowing down the road.Totally oblivious of being drenched with their wet shirt sticking on to them in patches and puffs, ruffled short hair standing up in eagerness & strands lying low like a con ,dirty chappals few tangled,few dangled to the ankle &  mud spattered shorts..they were lost in their own joyous town laughing when someones shorts slipped down,giggled when one rolled & tumbled, hooting out loud when the thunder rumbled,some sang as they spattered puddles with their kangaroo hops,sprinkled their face  with the droplets shaken off the tree tops, some running by as if to outrun clouds & some watched in awe floating paper trouts.

Just then the mobile phone rang, it was my colleague who had just undergone his appraisal.After the casual ex change of courtesies he inadvertently ended up cribbing about work,going on & on in detail for me to understand that he was undermined, undervalued & under appreciated.There were no under statements either on his bad situation or his boss’s biased disposition,there was no water going under the bridge.As I listened to the banter my eyes drifted back to the children.Though a grown up spoke,the hooted noise sounded truer, their haphazard moves where saner than our slick  maneuvers.Their battered looks & unkempt attire brought more reverence than any suit could inspire.At that moment it felt like through all disgust,resentment,discontent,heartbreak in our daily proceedings, where is the life that we were actually meant to be leading.