Mischievous giggles, full blown laughters,

The droplets leave enough to matter,

Clanging cutleries, pounding mortars,

In the drizzle, warm, too cold to cater.

The sky releases its tears,

In its fiery roar, torrid wail, who dares,

To go outside, to pack the wares,

The empty pots clink, fire flaming red,

Sizzles out.

I sit by the wet window a decade later,

Reminiscent of the soft patter,

Wishing again for the laughter,

That comes with the sound of dropping water.

Alas! The rain only remembers,

The carefree smiles, joy it no longer renders,

The bliss of a family, a father's arms like feathers,

Smile of a mother, warmth so tender. 

Now, life has taken its toll, 

Everyday we fight, like an ever unfolding carpet, it rolls,

One could stand at the highest pole, 

And look down, and see the hole,

Left by them, the people who 'rarely' mattered,

Because we were lost, in our own zone. 

The place in out heart, the place we call home,

Can only be remembered, when the droplets roam.