I have no muse…

But there is darkness…rains…almighty and tepid city of Bhopal.

I saunter out of this cubby tea stall and push start my bike…and the road ahead is evacuated.

The road glistens under the dismal sun that chaffs through the grey clouds. Its six now, but has been drizzling since noon and clouds evince a desire to pelt down heavy.

I ramble through the streets waiting for the clouds to drench me…enliven my dreary demeanor.

As I drive back, a gust gushes past my ears sating my olfactory desire…promising a
handsome shower. And then, it starts raining.

Rains…they are emotive…the phish out every secret of yours, every regret…just to make you feel how adorable you are.
The flora recuperates from the times it had simmered under the vindictive sun and the green gets perky…peaceful.
Slowly darkness falls and even more delectable gets the milieu. Little by little night grows out to full youth and the whole world is in the arms of dark.

…ecstatic.

I am conscious, but delirious.
A little lost…inebriated…and in LOVE with the mortal.