So, i am going to write a little about the arrived Monsoons in the city..
Not a poem.. because Monsoon's nauseated with poetry.
yet with every wet step, dark clouds gather and in my heart what was lifted, drops back again..
yes, it is the same recluse memory again that makes me love everything about monsoons... or else i couldnt see it.
may be it is... my own neurosis. :)