Baran

Sweltering morning heat made way for a breeze that sprung from nowhere. Sweat froze, travelled upwards, and sank back into skin. Clouds grew puffier with every passing hour; dark travellers poised to revive in their wake. We sped away on a motorbike, trying to surge ahead, beyond our pursuer, giggling as we swerved around carts, families and the other obstacles an Indian road throws up, for we knew it was futile. But we slowed, daring it to catch us. Then I felt it on my neck. It was cool; a single touch cooling an entire body. I reached behind slowly to confirm what I had already known. The rains had come.