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The clouds are all over the place today. They’ve covered up the blue of the sky with a cotton-y soft white blanket. But it’s not the kind that says warm hugs and soft love, but the kind you are wrapped up in on your grim days. People don’t go out on such days. The mood just doesn’t sit right with it. Even the birds refuse their happy chirping. The sky is, to the hilt, filled with despair. And the weight that the air is carrying around is filled with emptiness yet heavy enough to bring it down.
But before long, it would let it all go. Free itself from everything that was holding it back. Screaming and thundering and roaring all along. It would wash all the pain away and water the flowers with its tears, exhausting itself till all of the hurt is gone.
And when all of this is over and the night falls as the daylight begins to fade, the sky is at its prettiest with the blend of the mushy red and the pleasant pink and the welcoming orange and the fine purple of the setting sun. It’s a sight when the sky is this hopeful, like it had never, once, carried the weight of the world.
Guwahati ( 07.05.18 )