Rain feels like someone who knows me well.
It never rushes in. It comes gently, almost playfully, tapping the ground as if saying, I’m here. The first drops always make me smile. The air turns softer, the sky looks kinder, and suddenly the world feels less demanding. Even the busiest roads seem to slow down just to listen.
There is something deeply comforting about rain. Chai tastes warmer, conversations grow longer, and silence feels like a friend rather than a void. I find myself standing near the window for no reason at all, watching drops race each other, feeling light for reasons I can’t explain. It reminds me of simpler times of childhood laughter, wet feet, and joy that didn’t need a reason.
Rain has its own way of loving the earth. It washes away dust, cools tired trees, and wakes up sleeping seeds. It doesn’t judge or choose; it falls on everything equally, as if telling us that everyone deserves a little care. I strongly believe rain is nature’s most honest affection quiet, steady, and healing.
Even when it pours heavily, there is warmth in it. Plans may change, but hearts soften. We learn to pause, to breathe, to accept that not everything needs to be hurried. Rain teaches patience the way elders do without lectures, only presence.
And when it leaves, it doesn’t really go. It stays in the smell of the soil, in the calm that lingers, in the smile that appears for no clear reason.
Rain doesn’t just fall from the sky. It settles gently in the heart.
Thara
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