Rain in the city

Wash me up for I want to be new again

The fresh scent of mud watered is long gone in the sludge, the cool breeze surmounting the realms of
cognizance



The city never sleeps especially on a blanket of water. Hot samosas and other local wares with endless cups steaming tea put the delight to a new dimension. A roadside drizzle Cafe inspects the spoils only to be glad for the heavenly re-incarnation. The mood itself perpetrates to more chilled out as the namesake whether, weather it is an up market coffee shop instead. The morning comes in cool and refreshing for the eyes don't squint to a near relentless sun.

Come to think of it: The Qutb Minor, The Fort that's not so Red , and the Gate not made for us Indians, The Luteyens Zone the walled city and the Nouveaux Riches colonies all seem to gain. Though the waterworks do lead to some fireworks but I feel that OK for a vibrant economy to vibrate at times.

I feel mother Earth needs more of this, let alone Global Warming swarm the looks and likes of the world. A wetter better place to be-my city Delhi revelling in the Rains.