It rained heavily all night.
I could hear the pitter patter at the dead of the night when I woke up.
I didn't think I was going to live another day in fateful helpless exasperation.
Yet, as I looked on,
I saw the naked children on the footpath huddling in a tent, their laughter and shrieks piercing the dark silence.
I heard a beggar humming an old hindi song across the streets, a taxi driver speaking to his lover in the shades of the brooding 'sishu' tree.
And I felt hope.
A hope that transcended the realms of life and death.
A hope that made Death bow in utter humility before the cascade of Life.
By Arundhati Rakshit