“Is it possible to translate the sound of rain?” asked the Master.
Silence prevailed in the room.
In togetherness they all sat, eyes closed, in lotus posture!
Following they all were, the guided instructions. Not to seek there, rather here, in now, within.
Vedant was splashing his hands in the pool of rain water, jumping and throwing on his play mates that day. She, in her neatly clad chiffon saree was watching him play. He was drenched and giggling; his smile mirrored on her face. Ran he towards Kartavya when he saw him coming from his office and caught hold of him tightly. In rage, he had pushed him aside. Dragging him, he took him to the living area. Rukmani followed him, without complaint, trying though to pacify him and holding Vedant. Shruti, their 14 years old daughter had rushed, listening to wails of Vedant. She had been a second mother to him. She immediately took Vedant to her room, knowing that the heated argument would soon began. It did, between Kartavya and Rukmani. They however, the brother and sister were lost in the blaring noise of their favorite TV series.
The scene flashed in his mind’s eye. He had no answer for the first time.
Mr HR was blank.
He gazed into the room to grope for the answer.
And then suddenly he spoke as if something gushed from within, “It can’t be…the sound of the rain…it can just be felt…it can just be lived …it can just be experienced…”
A fountain of spontaneous joy raptured in the room, like the rain of wisdom that echoed and everyone smiled and joined him in his eureka spell.
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