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“The scent of rain On a night as such, raindrops become the songmaker, as memories knock unannounced on the doorway, entering my deep, releasing the river of lyrics. Haunted by the days that no longer remain, as life seems like a mist, there comes the scent of rain with a smell of memories, washing away the sadness that lingered in the breeze. This soul of mine is drunken into the rain for it is the flow of liquid memories, the times we once had echoing through the alleys. In the rain is carried the moonlit sonata that your heart once shared with me. The touch of a raindrop and the past explodes with a smell of memories. But now it is, a lonesome night and the fires must burn bright, for that is how the lamp stays alive with the oil of memories” — Jayita Bhattacharjee