The Summer rain

Lightning flashes like swords of Gods, thunder rolls like drum beats. Gray sky turns pale pink with each strike .

Leaves upturn their faces towards the biggest show on Earth. The magic, the drama unfolds.

The parched, dry Earth waits to catch  the beads of water in its palm,  while the wind tries to sweep away the gathering gray clouds.

Lightning begins the game of hide and seek with shadows. The rain starts, one drop here, another there and suddenly a downpour.

Streamlets start flowing on the roads, commuters get drenched in seconds. No umbrellas in hands, people rush to take cover.

Puddles fill up immediately, dirt washed off, make things muddy. Pedestrians huddle under any shade they can find.

Sometimes hail accompanies, falling  from sky like white  unwrapped sugar candies. Damaging months of farmers' hardwork in minutes.

And the show suddenly stops...as abruptly as it had begun.

Winds win in blowing away the clouds, thunders move out of earshot. The Sun peaks out and lo! The rain is over.

Sun starts shining with a vengeance. The rainbow silently, colourfully tries to attract attention towards itself.

People resume their commute, dirtier than usual.  Hazards await, stray dogs shake themselves dry, inconsiderate motorist splash water as they speed.

Meanwhile, the clouds start gathering up again, defeating the force of winds. Blocking the Sun once again and the audience waits for an encore.

The first Summer rain.

Scorching Sun dries and makes brittle the leaves, Earth starts cracking up like honeycomb.
Birds fly high and low to find  just a few drops of water to quench their thirst. Stray animals find shade under the trees and in  abandoned half built houses. People  try to stay indoors to be safe from the brutal heat.

...and then the clouds are summoned,  vast expanse of sky turns grey, air turns cool, wind picks up speed. Dust swirls make small whirlwinds with dried leaves. The wind chimes start tinkling rhythmically,  trees start swaying to the music of dust filled breeze, eyes are turned towards the sky, in anticipation of that first drop.

...and when the first  drops fall and hit the dried earth, the smell of wet earth intoxicates the senses like thousand  sirens. The drops turn to a gentle shower, a drizzle. Sky makes noise to declare freedom from heat, lightning is like celebration of nature. Dust settles, plants get a well deserved wash. The roads start shining. Dogs in the neighbourhood start barking, going round and round in circles with their tongues sticking out.

People come out of the homes for no reason at all, conversations start budding. Children start dancing, screaming, getting wet, soaked, drenched. Grown ups also stretch their arms to feel the rain on their palms as if they have never touched water before.

The first shower of summer is like magic, magic which leaves us  desiring for more, to experience more, to enjoy more, to feel more, to live more .