He came home furious, he hated rains, especially in Delhi the roads were muddy and jammed, electricity had the mood swings of a Cancerian, and there were too many people on the road trying to get drenched in the rain.
“Why would anyone voluntarily want to spoil his or her clothes in a downpour of polluted water?” he said pouring a cup of coffee. He looked up to find her dripping from head to toe smiling sheepishly at him. He shook his head and sat down with his coffee.
She changed into clean pajamas and sat beside him, snuggling her neck through the hook of his arm. She was smelling of rainwater and coffee, and that’s when he remembered why he loved the rains.