Isn't it natural for a small kid to forgot the absence of his sibling for some time? Or atleast, when the rain began pouring, it was likely that he would forget it for a while and he did. There were also the other kids at that time, it was all so natural and the rain too was very light and pleasant. He began playing in the rain with the other kids who might not have also understood the Elders. He was so happy, a relief after so many days of sadness, all his pent up energy released into the open space around him, so blissfully and childlike he played in the rain. The drops hit the child carefully so as to not to hurt him but there were enough reasons for the wailing old hags to hurt him and punish him. One of them, an old lady, who prays to god for her well-being but portraying to the world that she is the most pious and righteous member in the family. Being the first one to notice the breach of conduct, she cursed the kid with so much spontaneity that revealed all her feelings towards the family, his dad and his mother. What happened after that is very obvious indeed and would make him remember forever that Elders are difficult to understand, they always like to share suffering and angst which came with them part and parcel when they were born and the most essential thing, they filled the cloudbursts with sorrow.
The droplets wouldn't stay for long on her skin, they were actually absorbed by the skin making her skin moist and glowing. Her touch was warm on his body. The silhouette of her body in the dim, moody lighting of the late afternoon shower resembled the sculpture of Venus with the wolves. He wondered how she was sweating even in that cold but later he realized that he was sweating too. It was like a slow song, sung so quietly, like a lullaby, a tender rhythm and adding to that rhythm it rained heavily.
Then, it started to rain outside. Watching the rain rush down to the earth, hitting the dry earth with passion, he sat down on his bed to admire the sight. He wished that he could arrest time, make it stop there, make the rain fall for ages and cease suffering once for all. Nostalgic feelings swelled up inside him like a fountian, it made his heart heavy, he pulled out a white sheet and pencil, and started to sketch but all that would yield were zig-zag lines. The lines were placed in a haphazard way that violated all the rules of art, there was basically no balance in his sketch, since there was basically no balance in his life. He wanted to cry but he couldn't, he had cried enough. Writing home would solve the crisis he concluded. He wrote a long letter home and slept. With a little bit of guilt, he woke up in the evening, walked to the canteen and had the horrible food that they served in the evenings. Bird droppings had a sharp stink, mixed with the sludge outside the canteen, it was such a detestable odour, made him run out of that place. Occasionally, he would pick a couple of flowers from the tree that stood outside the canteen. Somebody told him that they were called Yakshagandhi. The flowers are large, white with a tint of yellow in the bottom of the stamen and with an enchanting fragrance, but they were no evil as the name suggested. Walking with quick paces towards his room, he again wished that he could have control over time, so that he would forward the time by two years.