Outpour.

It rains in the head. Doesn’t it?

When the day is cloudy, it rains in the head. When the lights inside the room stay on right from the morning, it rains in the head. When your hands feel a little cold and need a quick warm rubbing, it rains in the head, doesn't it?

The glass windows everywhere around in your office, take you back in time. And it becomes difficult to concentrate on work. You can listen to the sound of raindrops hitting the surface, when it’s not even pouring.

But why does this happen? Why the bygone time becomes such a memory? That classroom where an array of umbrellas used to shout ‘monsoons’ with their vibrant colours, the smell of coffee on the window where the water used to drop, drop by drop, and the wet streets, the sound of those car wheels driving away on a watery road, and the reflections on the road.

All you want to do is jump out into the mud and enjoy the rain. You want to be in the open to let your thoughts breathe open spaces. And to let yourself be. Because it rains in the head. It rains thoughts and memories. Like it rains cats and dogs. Doesn't it?