Rain is a gift of nature. When the clouds darken in the western dimension, the earth has a sad look. For the human mind too... Rain comes from the niruka of Nirakonda Venal... I have had the good fortune to walk along the country roads enjoying the music of the rain in Sri Raga.

The smell of the earth from the first rain brings back memories of my past. My childhood, which was splashed under the colorful umbrella! A college life where the torrential rain was enjoyed a lot and dreams were woven a lot! A period of exile who slept at night on the desk of the office in Mumbai in another flood! So there has been a companionship of rain in every joint of my life.

Rain has many forms, looks and guises.. the beloved companion of children who takes them to and from school, the raindrops that fell on Parvati's eyelashes were the epitome of beauty, and for those who live in flats without a yard or garden, rain is just a white drop that goes outside the window. , the rain is alone in the forest and valleys... When the rainy season comes, it is a festival to catch small fishes in the rivers... So many forms, so many expressions…

The rain becomes like a quintet whose rhythm tightens and starts thundering. Rain is the memory of being late for school, dripping in the standing water of my childhood between the gourds and banana groves, where even after it rains, the murmuring of the gourds never ceases. And the romantic rains of adolescence. I remember the nights I fell asleep to the music of the rain. There is no other spiritual experience as pleasurable as the morning sun after a night of rain.

Rainy season is generally less sunny due to more clouds. Up to one hundred hours per month. But in summer it can be up to 260 hours per month. As the sun increases, the crop generally increases.

The rain is the cry of the sky to the earth that it has not forgotten you. Rain is fluidly filling the void between the earth and the sky. Thus they become non-existent. Lovers like the rain as the water language

again a rainy season comes with it... the rain that does not fall hangs in the mind like a dark cloud... they spread their black wings and sit close to the mind... for a cry that rains down from the motionless deadness of the heat.