Last night it rained, kept on raining until it's sound ceased to affect my ears turning used to it. The cold breeze carrying the moisture of the environment touched my face gently, soaking my skin with its tender touch. It was a night with just a few streetlamps helping in illuminating the corners of our street. 'For how long has it been raining? Had it been raining since forever?' Were there ever no rains and it was dry and sunny?', I thought. The rains turned heavier as the night passed, making the atmosphere gloomier. The streetlamps have perished now. And what was left to welcome the ever falling rains was utter darkness. Silhouettes turned into shadows now. Faded images of sleeping homes got invisible in the blurriness of constant waters falling from above. The raindrops were crashing on the ground and the rooftops of the houses. Yet it was silent. It was a strange silence, a comfortable silence, a soothing silence, which brought me a sense of peace. Peace, like which was in my grandma's stories. And like her lullabies used to in my childhood, the drizzle swept me into a deep slumber, in the lap of that night...
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