It was a beautiful rainy day.The rains showered like blessings from the sky to mother earth.The drops drizzled over several stunning creations of God. The ***** frog winked in fright when the tiny drop thumped on its peeping head which it had kept out from its water world curious to know what's happening outside.The lazy ladybird hides itself in the rug of leaves it hopped and played till then.Little dusty leaves quivered with joy as they rejoiced and celebrated the long waited bath.

      Far aloof,the village looked so spanking new than ever after it was wetted by the light rain.so modest,so composed,the radiating sun put itself out of sight making way to the pompous clouds.Besides all these petite feelings,the livid eagle gaped at the sky sniping for it had missed its daily glide over the rusty mountains.

      All these tiny things shaped out the background,while the main subject remains undescribed yet.The big fat buffalo stands aright in tranquility as if nothing new happened.Its skin so tight,shining so bright,created a beautiful sight as the raindrops tapped on it pitter patter.Its horns like engraved artifacts mirrored each other and stood still amazed at their similarity.The momentary muddy puddle covered up its hooves.

      And now comes the most interesting foreground of the picture. It’s the little cute boy!!! Small dark brown eyes...Umpteen hopes filled in them. He wore the most beautiful jewel on his face....it’s his smile gleaming with merriment. While his tiny hands held tight the wicker, his entire little body hid itself behind the huge gunny he wore to shield against the shower. He hopped over the small puddle creating beautiful waves and exquisite splashes.

      And that forms the most beautiful picture about which my dad told me.The little boy is none other than my dad. :) :) .

In life, there are so many instances where we see some of the most amazing scenes but regret of not having an SLR camera with us to capture 'em. I have so many such beautiful pics captured in my brain and just wanna put them out here!! ;)
It was a beautiful sunny day in spite of being rainy season…I got ready to office in a very typical hurry – burry leisure and came out to bus stop. I have one good habit of not getting i-rated even if the bus does not show up for half an hour or so. That’s mainly coz I start observing every minute thing during the wait : P Like the way people walk, the patterns on morning sky, various fonts used on shop names, people’s expressions in vehicles…what not :D .
Amidst these inspections, one view caught my sight in delight. I saw a middle aged lady in her dusty clothes. She looked pale and thin with curly hair that looked not so neat. She was sweeping the shoulders raising a lot of sand. While all was nothing so special, came a little girl running from where I donno!!.The lady looked at her keeping aside her broom and took over her on her shoulders.
        As I moved my eyes a little to the right, I saw a dirt cart which is usually kept to throw the garbage. Here follows the most astonishing scene. To my disbelief, the lady placed the kid in it. She continued sweeping. From the background of many huge trees, the sun rays escaped out and lightened up the whole natural setting that was created. Now all I saw was laughter on the little angel not bothered about anything in the world but the dust that was rising. She clapped and clapped her hands while it looked like the sun rays also joined their hands to make an unheard tune. So unintentionally and innocently, did her movements create various stunning patterns of dirt that created a foggy look.
This was the moment I wanted to click it J

Spring in Kansas.
It doesn’t come in softly.
It roars in with the wind and rain beating against a steel roof, washing into the old soddies and stone,
Clearing out winter in one giant breath.
The change comes within a week,
From dry dead, brown, to startling green, an emerald landscape of winter wheat.  
The emerald isle has nothing on Kansas in the Spring.  
Then the color starts, red buds against glorious green fields
and thunderous skies, a painters dream uncaptured.
And forsythia, the first blooms, beautiful and stark.
Crocus, daffodil and dandelion crowning the ground with gold.
The trees, bare of leaves, burst forth with flowers in shades of white and pink and the magnolias burst forth, ready to fly off the tree.
Our mighty cotton wood, drooping with frills that will become light catching tufts in the early summer sun as the leaves murmur their constant song, piling like snow in the heated streets.
Thunder rolls as lightning strike turning day into night with hail filled clouds and twisters striking like Greek gods, angry and awesome.
Creeks flood and clear the way for tadpoles and crawdads in streams and pools.
Spring comes, the earth warms, we all wake and stretch and wait for the sunflowers to do the same, yearning to the summer sun.

The first smooch kiss
A spring night
Moonlit pastoral lake
Dancing elm, oak, and pear
Mild breeze
Courting song of crickets and katydid
Secrecy and silence
Standing close, smiling, and stirring
Our necks tilted on the right
One hand behind and one front
Thumbs caressing the face
And fingers
releasing the locks of your hair

Our hands massaging behind and front
The adorable landscape of love
Bump and *******
Belly and waist
Crossed legs
Delirious smell of the skin
Taste of your rosy lips and sweet saliva
The taste of one another
Outer eyes closed, inner open
My upper lip between your lips
Your lower lip between mine

Rubbing, pressing, *******, kissing
Small and big, short and long
Goose bumps and blushing
Breathtaking, timelessness, breathless
Uncaptured, indefinable moment!

Watch out as we struggle to maintain
the withering roots with a dose of intolerance
Blasted through the decade aged monitor that
We can't afford to replace because these
suits and briefcases are tattered together to call substantial and the white building you cruise to each day ain't that blinding anymore
For all the 'accidental' 'unknown' and 'uncaptured' hangings you dated
And the collar around your necks
Got no creases in them
Like those on the hand of his sister
as she sits by the coffin

A nighttime recess.

An awareness embedded
within the thickened folds,
layered - one upon another.

Second upon second.
Minute over minute.
Hour after hour.

Rendering me unheard
and vague.

A stream of consciousness
that runs uncaptured.
Unexplained and unreasoned.

Consistent and tiresome.
Haphazardly predictable.

Routine like
                      clockwork.