Where the Rain Falls

Does Nature Discrimate the Downtrodden?

I watch the villagers come out when the weather gets cool in the evenings, looking up with eager eyes for signs of rain, praying that their crops are safe and don’t wither under the persistent scorching sun.

Seeds dying even before they sprout are as common as the dust-filled roads that mar the paths they tread upon. Their animals, bared of flesh, are constantly in their minds. Their bony form requires nourishment and water so that they can turn the soils of the land and be a source of staples.

Can Yearning Hearts Be Pacified With A Touch of Beauty Instead?

But when has beauty been enough to feed a body and soul? Not even the constellation can dazzle so as to silence an hungered heart.

Sparse rain in areas of the poor reek of discrimination even by nature.

“The dry winds blew dust, while the unbearable heat parched our throats and body. The sweat that dripped from our bodies was as sparse as the water that we drank each time we couldn’t stand the heat.”

Another Epic Story from the author of Amazon's No.1 best-seller under Kindle's New Releases, The Goddess of the Himavan.