Yet another rain!

Rain. It has begun again. The pouring happiness and bolting thunder. The tear of the above, the joy of the earth. That’s a Tamil film song, ain’t it? Well, copyright acknowledged to whomsoever may it concern. The context is not rain. The topic of discussion is my necessity to write. And how I look around for something to write. I feel sorry. So sorry for myself. My desperation to write. Like, writing it down at this moment will make it my most precious memory forever in life. But reality is too painful and I feel sorry for myself again. Sorry sorry me. Looks like, half the time I don’t even make sense in my writing. Or perhaps, more than half. People don’t make anything out of my writing and they think it’s such a waste of time. Well, technically yeah, a lot of time gets wasted. But somehow, I assume my writing to be a form of revelation and salvation. I feel accomplished every time I press the ‘Publish’ button. If things don’t go well for you, kindly stay away. It pulls a person back when you tell them on their face that their form of salvation is utter nonsense!
So back to rain, what were we saying? Chuck that! It’s raining cats and dogs. And that’s it. All I wanted was to assure myself that I am still capable of ‘writing’!