a wet city

It’s raining outside. The cool breeze is passing through my spine. The city must be so cold and wet right now. Peddlers must be running for shelter. The lovebirds must be flying to their nest. Some others must be grinning at their self. They just got wet and they are "lovin it". The roadside shopkeepers must be removing plastic sheets out of their hidden godowns. The pakoda walas would have just doubled their sales. Mother must be covering her kids with her dupatta. The kids must be drenched with the rain below her dupatta. Everyone must have become a part of this rain.
Every nook and corner would have been awaken by this chilling breeze but on the other end from me a girl just my age must have sipped the last drop of her coffee and shut her book to lie down on her warm bed. She would take her bed sheet and cuddle into it in sometime. A man, between his loads of work, would have looked outside the window of his air conditioned office for a while to remember the old days when such a downpour would be just the reason to rush to the nearest tea stall with his friends. A boy, not far from that man, would be trying to smoke the last inch of tobacco from his last wet cigarette. He must be thinking about his last blog on an old man who wanted to leave this mad world. Far from all this a small girl must have got her soap and towel to the terrace above her house. Her brother is already there with his huge bucket. They had awaited this season for a long time. Far in the midst of the concrete jungle a girl just the brother's age must be carrying her kid brother on her shoulder. She will be soon knocking on one of those huge cars to beg for a penny!

Every eye would have looked up to the cloud filled horizon at least once. Every drop would have been someone’s first drop of rain. Each flower would have blossom a bit more. Each tree a bit more greener, each street a bit more cleaner. It must be raining in my beloved city!