“Bliss outside, turmoil within.”
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For everyone, it was just rain.
A mere word; A few sparks here and there, maybe.
But somehow, rain was not just rain.
Rain was freedom in a different language;
Rain danced, swayed along with the breeze all night long;
Rain sang, in a tune everyone heard but couldn’t sing along;
Rain played, all over the places we made merry and wept;
Rain gathered up our broken pieces and whispered, time and again, break free!
Rain was what it was, but it was a bit more than what it seemed to be.
Tears of heaven? Cries of the hidden stars? Blessings from our ancestors?
Rain was all. Rain was love: a different kind of love.
A love which made us- you and me- feel.
After all, rain was not just about getting drenched, was it?

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