August Rain


“How much do you love me?” he asked in a playful manner while twirling a loose curl from her lustrous mane around his index finger.

She pondered over the question in all seriousness and then replied, “I love you like the August rain.”

“August rain?” he asked.

“Your love nourishes my soul as rain nurtures the parched soil to loosen it. The moistened earth then allows the seed to germinate and push forth its tiny leaves. Your love soaks my soul and allows the fount of my love to burst forth,” she said.

“Is that all?” he asked.

“Your love is sensuous like the August rain,” she replied.

His laughter filled the room as he sat up in bed and pulled her in a bear hug.

“My senses feel you through the rain. My ears pick your words like the esoteric sounds made by the pitter-patter of the August rain on the rooftop and the windowpanes on those sleepless nights when the world sleeps in the quietest slumber.

My skin tingles at your touch like the balmy drizzle that embraces the dust-laden trees, shrubs and lanes, only to cleanse them with its gentle touch and fill them with verdant lush.

My nostrils tickle with your musk fragrance as if you were the heady, earthy smell of the plains after the first rains that remind you of a long forgotten memory buried deep in the recesses of your heart. And, Oh! The taste of your lips, I compare to the elixir drops falling from the drifting clouds or the rain drops hanging on the edges of serrated leaves after a heavy downpour that tastes like nectar or some exotic drink meant only for the gods.”

Outside, the rain fell silently, trying not to make a sound so as to catch every syllable of what she said so as to ensconce it for once and all.

Inside, his eyes could hardly contain the barrage of tears that wanted to break all barriers, and they did.

“In my next life, I promise to love you with my eyes too.” Her hands reached his wet cheeks and wiped the August rain.

Dr. Sonika Sethi