Written by AV Raj
In the hot, arid Indian summer,
The multitude lies in half-slumber—
Hark! A distant rumble in the skies,
Darkening clouds begin to rise.
The parched earth breathes that heady scent,
Of longed-for rain, heaven-sent.
A harbinger of cooler days,
Of laughter, puddles, and monsoon haze.
From old and young, poor and grand,
Springs a chorus across the land—
A simple, eager, joyous refrain:
“It’s going to rain!”
Baroda
2020
Text © AV Raj
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