Revival

 

Our manoeuvres were unstoppable for two weeks in a row.

It started in the month of April and the sun had been pouring wrath like never before. We were incessantly working with zeal while profusely sweating.

Then one day, there was a burst of clouds followed by thunderstorm. The thunderstorm came as a respite right after sunset. Later, it rained unabated for hours after hours till morning. I was drenched under rain along with others that night. I could not pay attention to feelings as long as I was dealing with the work in hands. It was until we took shelter under a shanty that I realised how cold I was inside and shivering outside. I saw people running covering their heads under flickering streetlights flanked on both sides of the roads. Some felt passion for rain while others felt against it. I felt nothing but cold. The parched ends in my chest were frayed under the pattering rain and tore open. I felt as cold as though the rain was pouring only on me. I felt lonely and my chest was ploughed upon.

Although, little did I know that my ploughed chest could bear saplings of emotions now. Today, the clouds are banking, and the raining season is nearing its peak. I await for the sapling to branch further and further to fetch me warmth, chirping birds, butterflies. I want to hear the brushing leaves when wind blows and whiff wet soil. I have hopes that when it rains this time, I’d not be alone. The banking clouds seem to announce that the rain is going to be different this year.