Saturday, November 17, 2007

rain, my vietnam

Opened window to get some air. It's come to my attention that my room is inconceivably stuffy. With the fresh cool air comes the sounds of cars zooming past, first distant, then near, then distant again. Occasionally a truck goes past, carrying with it the sounds of steady low humming. The air, unmistakably comes alive as soon as the long awaited rain touches the cracked brown earth- saturating it with an aroma of rich moist earthy humidity, so tangible, so pervasive it seems to crawl through my skin, sends shivers through my body, and inexorably, irrevocably brings back memories of the monsoonal rain of my childhood, much as I fight to push the past out of my mind.

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