Jan 18, 2013


Saurabh Chawla |

I stood there gazing
The day turned to night
It was no less than amazing
One can't avert the beautiful sight

Clouds enveloped the sky
So as to hide its suffering
They give out a violent cry 
After all it also needs a buffering

The violent rush of rain
A view which is not so rife
Just to ease out the pain
To wash out the bruises of strife

Sometimes the rush is unexpected
At times it will lead you to quail
But this is all that is suspected
So much anger, even sky cries hail

This is dedicated to the Hailstorm that hit New Delhi on a chilly winter night when almost all were sleeping in the comfort of their quilts unaware of not so rife event. I took a chance to have a look at the falling pieces of ice from the skies at the wee hours and felt like writing on the beautiful weather.

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