It’s raining after ages. Trickling and tapping on the window pane, while I sit in the drawing room with curtains drawn inwards to the open verandah. And the wind, oh my the wind. Mmm how long have I waited for this wind? Quite long. The time long yearning has turned me foolishly inarticulate of the improbable divinity all around me. I just wish it wasn’t dark out there, and I could meet the nimbus in the sunkissed sky exposing its diverged shapes that speaks to me. It has been a while since we two had a convo. Last time it spoke of a man with big long mustache who coughed unmannerly and grew thunders. I called him Thor en mustachioed. To sustain his propriety he apologized by bestowing an illuminated arc of coloured light in the sky. And I called it rainbow. I wish for another rainbow, I wish for another rain, in another time, may be tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that, when the sky is still sunkissed, and the smell of hot morning tea hovers over the fresh scent of cool rain. I want more such days, more such nights. Because I am in love, and I am in love with my name. 
I am a being of Heaven and Earth, of thunder and lightning, of rain and wind, of the galaxies.
