The Rain

This post has been published by me as a part of Blog-a-Ton 55; the fifty-fifth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. In association with ​Rashmi Kumar, the author of Hooked, Lined and Single and Jyoti Arora, the author of Lemon Girl. .
Monsoon by Yann (Wikimedia Commons). Shared with GNU Free Documentation License CC Attribution-Share Alike.

The clouds roared with all their might, lightening lighted up the whole village. Tara left whatever she was doing and ran outside. She loved rain, she always have and never missed a chance of dancing in the rain. These few minutes had the power of washing away all her worries, loneliness and pain. Drenched, she feel rejuvenated and alive.  When she was satisfied, she went inside and changed, made herself some coffee and sat on the window. The musky smell of rain wet soil took her back in time when rain meant loud noises and games. This house was not always as quite as it is now. Tara reminisced about her childhood. In vacations every corner of the house was filled with children running, hiding, screaming. fighting, playing everywhere. Every now and then one passing by could hear a name being screamed in the house. Tara smiled at the thought of how notorious they used to be. They wished the vacations should just  keep going on while their elders wished otherwise. She has always loved the open front porch even as a child. She was always mesmerized by the way these rain drops danced on the floor. She remembered how each of them would go running to the porch for getting wet in the rain. They would scream and dance and soon the kids from neighborhood would join them. It felt like a fair. They would run all over the house collecting old newspapers. Their parents will keep screaming on them but they always gave them a deaf ear. She loved the sight of all those paper boats moving around here and there. As they grew old, the fun became lesser. The childhood was replaced by growing up. The boats and the screams were gone. Giggling replaced laughter. Vacations became shorter and shorter. And before long everything ended. Everyone of their sibling went out for studying and settled in come city or abroad. She did too but she always came back. She loved the house too much to abandon it. They had everything but time. Tara couldn't really remember when was the last time they had met. The house grew quite and lost its charm. After the grandparents death the house went awfully quite. And when her parents passed away the house become haunting. But she dared not leave it. People insisted, relatives insisted but she stayed back. 

She sighed, went back inside, washed her coffee cup and started what she had left doing.
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Participation Count: 19. Image Credits: Monsoon by Yann (Wikimedia Commons). Shared with GNU Free Documentation License CC Attribution-Share Alike.
 
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