Still it didn't rain. He was there always, all the time waiting for the downpour. The wind blowing with its chill piercing the thin layer of cotton, he thought its a prologue. Stopped half way in that lonely road and the uncertainty made him return and again walking through the same, he hoped it may rain. He was looking at the sky every now and then...Suddenly a drop of water fell on his cheeks, it started!!! Then nothing..was it from the sky or from his eyes, he wondered. The phone rang, he eagerly checked as if it is a forecast of rain...an acquaintance eagerly asked "is it raining??".. mockingly, he smiled in vein and replied it may snow as there is no defrost. At every turn he was sure it will rain by the time he reaches the next and the next then again the next..Still it didn't rain.
The jokes of wind on the windows and the door made him rush outside, he was eager to engulf the smell of the rain. Hopelessly slithered by the parody, he hoped it may... Smiling through the night dreaming the white flower glazed by the drops, he hoped in the morning... His solitude became hornbills sat along with him waiting for the rain.. Still it didn't rain.