One, two, four, hundred and suddenly there are millions of them. Tip! Tip!, it sounds as if the drop is chattering about their journey from sky to the dry, quenching road. The earth welcomes them by giving off the sweetest fragrance. There is a hush-rush everywhere to get under some shade so that their too expensive and elegant clothes don’t get touched by the most beautiful gift from god because people have become so unearthly; they think that the beautiful drops will unbeautify them.
But in a corner untouched by the voice of worry sat a beggar child with his mother. He wore a torn out shirt with one sleeve and pants which were too long for him. His eyes were eager as if he has lived his whole life for this moment. He slipped his hands from his mother’s and ran into the centre of the street, opening his arms he stood there looking at the sky with excitement. He closed his eyes and lived every drop that fell on his fore head which travelled moisturising his face till it touched his chin.
“What are you doing in the rain my child? We don’t have another pair of clothes for you. You will get cold in wet clothes! We can’t even pay for medicines!”Shouted her mother dragging him to the corner of the road.
“No ma! You have always taught me to worry about the future but today you should learn to live in the present. We are beggars. We beg for money not for happiness. We are deprived of money by god not by happiness.” Said the boy leaving her mother’s hold and enjoining the rain.
Her mother followed him and you could see her opening her arms for happiness.