When clouds gather, I see the promise of rain.
No this is not one of those quotable quotes.
This is the story of cloud, rain and a rainbow!
The scrawny hands knocked on my tinted window everyday, as I waited for multiples of 3 minutes for a green signal to cross the busy intersection. Tall ball pens, cheap earbuds, colorful balloons, the grumpy looking nodding dogs - the girl kept offering something or the other everyday. And, I turned my face away from both - the cheap Chinese products and the brown haired, green eyed gypsy girl, probably from Rajasthan.
The wait was longer that day and I was in a hurry. The clouds were roaring but it sounded like empty threats. I told the driver to return and leapt out of the car, making a dash for the metro station, a couple of hundred meters away. A few steps on to the cobbled footpath and the rain came pouring. For once the clouds delivered on their promise. But, before the fat drops could drench me, a colorful rainbow was upon me.
The small hands were propping a big colorful umbrella. The upturned eager face of the gypsy girl, head covered with a blue polythene bag, and a wet smile on her lips stared at me with hope.