In the candlelight....
I pass by a busy road on a rainy day, the bus inching its way across the many vehicles whose sole aim was to get ahead, making it seem as though all of them were doctors called for an emergency case. The rain is still dropping, slightly though, it's done with venting all its fury, just the remaining tears that have to be shed, in order to get the desperation out of one's system completely. The trees are swaying soaking wet, with the leaves dripping, the drops falling on the earth, and blending in with the soil so easily and readily, without any thought of change or discomfort. I see several small houses, I don’t know if there are called houses, a kind of tent, which have blue plastic sheets over them, as a cover for rains. They are people who mould clay into beautiful pots that we adorn our homes with. Their tents are open on either side, only a rugged jute carpet serves as their protection from the muddy surface below. I see the kids have long slept, their faces so peaceful li