When I went out, the weather was crisp. It would definitely rain in the evening. I drove to the temple. After the puja, it started raining. The rain cleaned the idols decorating the gopuram. The raindrops fell on the stone slabs covering the ground like crackers. They slided down the tall brass tower like boats sliding down a water slide.
The brass leaves on the brass tower trembled. The raindrops fell like garland of pearls from the tip of the brass leaves. Oh, wait! I’ll collect them! The temple was purified.
I sat watching the rain. In the yard, the trees touched the ground due to the weight of the raindrops. The rain smudged the rangoli drawn from rice flour, kumkum, and turmeric. It flowed like a colorful river with flowers floating on it; a vase with flowers and floating candles! Sensuous!
The jingling of anklets on feet of kids and women! The hymns of bangles on the round hands of women! The sound of rain on the fibre shelter was like beating of drums. The murmuring of devotees was like mantras. So beautiful!
After an hour or so, the rain stopped. I drove back with a calm and peaceful mind. Was the drizzle cleansing me off my thoughts, actions, and deeds? I felt nice and fresh. Rain on me, more!
I’m awfully hungry. Can anyone prepare coffee for me?