Soft pitter-patter of raindrops, As if tiny feet thumping on rooftop, Invites me drumming on window pane. Petrichor tugs my senses, And pulls me in drizzle For kiddish dances. Wakes up the child in me, The infant rain! (Caption)
The pulse was vanishing and so was her heartbeat, Every breath seemed to be the last one for her, Her bones were fragile enough to sustain pain of that magnitude, But she answered "Yes!" to the doctors. The baby did take birth but it was on her mother's grave!!
Learn to be as jubilant as an infant who when enters the room, terminate everyone's apathy and sorrow and everyone get infected with exhilaration and optimism.