short story

Rain… A Short Story

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The voice of thunder declares my arrival; 

The rainbow announces my departure.
I am like earthly life, which begins at
The feet of the mad elements and ends 
Under the upraised wings of death.
                                             – Kahlil Gibran, The Song of the Rain.

The rain dropped like dotted silver thread, lined with pearls, straight from the heavenly sea, coming through the gates of thunder.

Ali ran fast through the watery winds following the pleasant tune. He ran till he reached the riverside. The brimming river was flowing fast and it’s prattling noise enhanced by the songs of the rain. But above all, came the mellifluous tune.

On the other bank sat a girl playing by herself. The tune was better than any nightingale’s chant and pleasing than any Cuckoo’s song.

He waved at her. She stared at him for a minute and waved back and soon resumed her song.



I saw him that day, but never again.

He was the first one to follow my song. The angry water took him in its lap and there he lies. He never wakes up, he never will. But I still play near the riverside to attract him but may be the music of my flute is obstructed by the river’s berceuse.

I will play for him.

Always.

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8 thoughts on “Rain… A Short Story

  1. Loved the way you narrated the story .. At the end , you let the readers to know that she was playing a flute 🙂 I have a doubt .. You made ali to die .. why !?

    Like

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