ℙ𝔼𝕋ℝ𝕀ℂℍ𝕆ℝ- The Rain of Tears

It was a calm and pleasant evening. The sun was slowly sinking beyond the horizon, casting a golden hue across the sky and bathing the park in a warm, soothing glow. A gentle breeze carried the scent of grass and blooming flowers, adding to the tranquil atmosphere. Children ran about with laughter echoing in the air, their carefree joy bringing smiles to the faces of parents who watched them with admiration, chatting softly among themselves.

But suddenly, dark clouds began to gather, slowly swallowing the soft light of the setting sun. Within moments, raindrops started to fall—light at first, then swiftly turning into a steady downpour. People rushed to find shelter, umbrellas popped open, and worried parents scooped up children. The cheerful commotion turned into a hurried scramble as the park began to empty.

Amidst the chaos, a boy sat motionless on a bench in the heart of the park, completely drenched. While everyone else fled from the rain, he remained, as if unaware or unaffected by the storm. At first glance, he seemed unconscious, still, almost lifeless. But if one looked closer, they would see the tears cascading down his cheeks, blending seamlessly with the falling rain.

He made no effort to seek cover. Perhaps he didn’t care, or perhaps he welcomed the rain—letting it hide the pain that was too much to bear alone. It felt as though the sky cried with him, the storm a mirror of his sorrow. In no time, the once lively park was deserted, silent except for the sound of the rain.

There he remained—alone on the bench, soaked to the bone, as evening slowly faded into night.

Suddenly, through the curtain of rain, a girl appeared behind the boy. Without a word, she gently held an umbrella over him, shielding him from the downpour. Her voice was soft, almost concerned, as she spoke, “Aren’t you afraid of catching a cold, sitting here like this in the rain?”

The boy remained still, his eyes fixed on the ground, as if he hadn’t heard her at all. He didn’t acknowledge her presence—lost in a world of sorrow too heavy to let anyone in.

Perplexed and a little concerned by his silence, the girl slowly walked around to face him. As she got a better look at his tear-streaked face, her voice trembled slightly, the words escaping like a whisper, “Why are you crying… and sitting here like you're already gone?”

Still, he said nothing.

Moved by something she couldn’t quite explain, the girl gently cupped his face with one hand, wiping the tears from his cheeks while still holding the umbrella in the other. Her touch was warm, sincere, almost motherly—but filled with the care of a stranger who simply couldn't walk away.

At last, the boy blinked. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, as if waking from a long, sad dream.

“Who are you? And… why are you rubbing my eyes?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse.

The girl didn’t waver. Her tone was calm but firm, filled with quiet strength. “I was just passing by the park when I saw you sitting here, drenched. At first, I thought you might be hurt or unconscious. But as I came closer, I saw you crying—crying so deeply, it was as if the world had ended. And yet, you didn’t move… didn’t speak… didn’t even blink.”

Realization washed over the boy’s face, and guilt crept into his voice.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to ignore you. I was… just lost in my thoughts. I didn’t even notice someone was talking to me.”

The girl’s expression softened as she took a seat beside him on the cold, rain-slick bench.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize,” she said gently. “I was just worried. I couldn’t understand why someone would sit out here all alone, in the rain like this.”

The boy looked down for a moment before replying, “I guess I was so deep in thought… I didn’t even realize it had started raining.”

A quiet moment passed between them, filled only by the soft patter of rain on the umbrella. Then, genuinely curious, the girl asked, “And why were you crying?”

He blinked again, puzzled. “Was I really crying? I… I didn’t even realize.”

The girl shifted slightly, her voice tender. “Yes, you were. Tears were just pouring down your face. I didn’t want to see someone like that and just walk away… So I wiped your eyes. I hope that’s okay.”

The boy looked at her, his expression slowly softening. “No, I don’t mind at all. I’m truly sorry for how I acted earlier. And… thank you. For everything—for stopping, covering me, genuinely not walking away.”

He stood up slowly, the weight on his shoulders seeming just a little lighter. “I should go now. If you’d like, I can walk you to your neighborhood—it’s the least I can do.”

The girl smiled—a small, kind smile that felt warmer than the umbrella above them.

“That’s sweet of you,” she said, standing up beside him. “But I’ll be alright on my own. Just take care of yourself, okay? Not everyone would stop and offer kindness like this. So next time… be a little more aware of your surroundings.”

He nodded silently, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. They exchanged no more words. Just a quiet glance, an unspoken understanding… and then they turned and walked their separate ways into the rainy night, the memory of that fleeting connection lingering like a distant echo of something meaningful.

The next day, evening came shrouded in grey clouds, and the rain had been falling steadily since morning. The park wore a quiet, melancholic look under the veil of droplets. Once again, the boy found himself on the same bench as the day before—drenched, alone, and lost in his thoughts. Unlike yesterday, though, he was no longer motionless. His body gently swayed as he sat, as if caught in rhythm with the rain. Tears still streamed down his face, but something had changed—he no longer looked like a lifeless soul. There was a trace of awareness, of quiet acceptance.

Then, as if out of a dream, he saw her.

The same girl from the day before walked into the park, holding a transparent umbrella above her head. Her olive-green gown fluttered lightly in the breeze, and a light brown straw hat shielded her from the falling rain. She looked like she didn’t belong in this rainy world—like she had stepped out of a painting.

She spotted him and immediately waved with a warm, familiar smile. Without hesitation, she walked toward him and sat beside him on the rain-soaked bench, once again covering him with her umbrella.

“You're getting wet in the rain again, huh?” she said playfully, glancing sideways at him. “Do you love the rain so much that you don't care about catching a cold? And… you're crying again. Why?”

The boy gave a faint smile, his eyes still glossy. “I guess I’ve just gotten used to the rain. Maybe because I forget my umbrella every time,” he said softly. “And my tears... just ignore them. They’re nothing worth worrying about.”

She turned to face him, her expression suddenly serious. “What are you, some kind of ghost? I ask a simple question, and you say, ‘Don’t worry about it.’ So rude!” she scolded half-jokingly, then added, “Don’t you see? We met because it was fate. We’re meant to cross paths. Maybe… even meant to be together.”

He chuckled, a genuine laugh breaking through his sadness. “What are you talking about—fate? You’re hilarious. We just met yesterday, and now you’re saying we’re destined to be together?” He shook his head lightly. “We’re still strangers. I don’t even know your name.”

She pouted dramatically, clearly pretending to be offended. “You really are rude! Don’t you know how to speak to a girl?” Then, with a smirk, she added, “Anyway, I’m Maya.”

The boy raised an eyebrow at her dramatics, then replied with a hint of embarrassment, “Nice to meet you, Maya. I’m Swara.” He paused for a moment. “And… sorry if I sounded rude. You’re right—I don’t really know how to talk to girls. I’ve never been close to one before.”

Her playful demeanor faded into something softer, more understanding. “That’s not something to apologize for. It’s not your fault. But maybe it means this meeting... is meant to happen.”

Swara looked at her, his expression lighter now. “Maybe. Who knows.” Then he stood up slowly. “Anyway… I should head home now. If you’d like, I can walk you part of the way.”

Maya shook her head with a gentle smile. “Nah, I’m good. You take care of yourself, okay?”

They both stood in silence for a moment, their eyes meeting beneath the soft curtain of rain. Something unspoken was in that gaze—not quite love, not yet—but the kind of understanding that only kindred souls share.

And then, just like yesterday, they turned and walked their separate ways, the sound of raindrops echoing between them—carrying a promise that this wasn't the last time they'd meet.

Days passed quietly, one after another, wrapped in the gentle rhythm of the rain. And with each passing day, Swara and Maya found themselves meeting at the same time, in the same park, on the same old bench—rain or shine, but mostly rain. What started as a coincidence slowly began to feel like a ritual, like a chapter being written each day in the story of two souls slowly leaning toward each other.

Their conversations, once hesitant and guarded, had grown fluid and free. They laughed more. Smiled easier. Silences no longer felt awkward—they felt comfortable, even necessary, like pauses between the verses of a song only they could hear.

One evening, as the sky cried its familiar tune, they both arrived at the bench, soaked—neither had remembered to bring an umbrella, but neither seemed to mind. It had almost become their thing—drenched clothes, muddy shoes, and hearts quietly unfolding.

As they sat side by side, letting the rain wash over them, Maya turned to him, her eyes more serious than usual. “Swara,” she asked softly, “why do you always cry when it rains?”

Swara paused, caught off guard by the directness in her voice. He looked at her momentarily, then turned his gaze forward again, watching the rain ripple in the puddles.

“You really want to know?” he asked, his voice quieter than the raindrops.

“I do,” Maya said gently. “But only if you’re okay talking about it. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Swara took a deep breath, the kind that carries the weight of memories, and exhaled slowly. “I guess I can tell you this much... Every time the rain starts, tears just... fall from my eyes. Automatically. I don’t even realize when it starts happening.”

Maya tilted her head, concerned. “Is it some kind of mental condition?” she asked cautiously. “Like... a trauma response or something?”

Swara let out a soft laugh, one that tried to hide the ache behind it. “No, nothing like that. At least, not that I know of. I’ve never tried to understand it, really. I just let it happen. Maybe... maybe because understanding it might hurt more than just feeling it.”

Maya looked at him for a moment, unsure of what to say, then smiled in her teasing tone. “You’re such a mystery, Swara. What are you, a ghost or something? You appear in the rain, cry without reason, speak like a poet, and disappear again. You seem so cold sometimes, you know that?”

Swara turned to her with a playful grin. “And yet, you keep showing up here to sit with me, rain or no rain.”

“I guess I’m a ghost too,” she replied with a wink. “Or just hopelessly curious.”

They both chuckled quietly, and for a moment, the rain seemed softer, like it, too, was enjoying their presence.

Maya glanced at her watch and sighed. “I’ve got to go early today. Have somewhere to be. But I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Swara nodded, the smile never leaving his face. “See you soon, Maya. And hey... thanks. For always showing up.”

Maya stood, brushed a few droplets off her gown, and gave him a mock salute. “You take care of yourself, Mr. Mysterious.”

He watched as she walked away, her silhouette gradually blurring into the misty rain. As she disappeared beyond the trees, Swara whispered under his breath, almost too softly for even the rain to hear, “I’m sorry, Maya... I still can’t tell you the real reason behind my tears. But thank you... for coming into my life, even when I didn’t ask for anyone. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”

He lingered for a moment longer, then stood up, hands in his pockets, eyes to the sky. The rain was still falling, but now under a clearing sky, where stars shyly peeked through the clouds. And just like that, he walked away—into the night, into the quiet comfort of knowing someone out there cared.

Continue.....