As it rained

Last night, when I heard the rain my mind raced back to the times when rain only meant binge-watching Byomkesh Bakshi. I turned on the heater, the orange hue filled the room. Wish I could turn the blue into orange or pink or red or any bright colour but blue.

I saw sitting you over the window, in a yellow dress, laughing over some silly joke, trying to tie up your waist-long hair. When I approached, you were not there. You flew out of the window. You were the child of the Ganges, like a river you all always flowed through every thick and thin.

For how long I'll have to think about you. They say I need to settle myself down. Settle but where? What is meant by settling down? If you’d been here, I would have asked you. 

Your friend called again. Sometimes I feel she tries to find you in me. We ended up crying together. They may care, maybe not. I do wish badly to start trusting the world again. I'm still figuring out with whom I'm angry. Now every call drains me, I'm afraid I’ll pass on my emotions to others and it would break them too. 

Once we start living among the dead, they stop haunting us at all. I stared out the window and found myself at the cremation ground. In another instant, I was back in my room. A sad fox is screaming due to winter. After a while, my voice merged with that of fox and there is no longer a difference between us.