I was running against time when it hit me. A whiff of breeze that carried with it a medley of fragrances - wet earth, rain kissed leaves, floral nectar and much more, an indefinable scent that an attarwala in Hyderabad claims to have replicated – the aroma of rain.
I don’t remember when the irritation of being caught in a downpour gave way, but I remember what I felt - pure joy as my haste evaporated along with my anger.
The first few rain drops were like gentle caresses that loosened the knot of hurt in me and then it beat down harder demanding that my tears be released. I was glad to let go. It gently ruffled my hair and slowly seeped into my very soul.
When it gently left, I felt renewed; whole again, as if the rain had filled in the gaps.
I was, I still am, amazed.
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