It's that time of the year

WHICH SUCKS.

Brilliant ideas flit in and out of my head. Some random tunes. I keep improvising while I stare at this term in notebook which gradually loses all its meaning.

A meaningless wonder; this tune takes shape in my head. What does it remind me of? A rainy day. A downpour which calms down to a drizzle. Raindrops are trickling down the window pane, while I stare fixedly at this one drop, moving painstakingly, while the rest have already raced ahead of it. Impatience. I will it to move faster. COME ON! But no,.the drop follows the cliched slow-and-steady-wins-the-race ideology. All right, I say. I give up. Suit yourself, you pesky little rain drop.

It all fits. The tune. The day. The rain. The dark clouds.

But I notice that the other raindrops that rushed off in a hurry, seem to have disappeared, leaving long, fine trails of water, that end abruptly. Our pesky man is the only one, treading slowly, millimeter by millimeter, enjoying every step.

Some realisation.

Was it a race to win? Was there a reward at the end of it? Those raindrops didn't win a race. They simply hotfooted and vanished at the end of it. No triumph. My favourite raindrop, still trudges slow, breathing in the cool monsoon air and smelling the earth. I get a feeling that it sees me, through it's invisible eyes and smiles at me. Hakuna Matata.

I seem to be stuck at this point. I don't want this drop to disappear.

But it's going to. I can't stop it.

I seem to be stuck at this point. Should it end with the end of the drop's journey?

There seems to be some confusion. The word I was staring at comes back into focus.

'Drops'.

"Add a few drops of water to the compound.." . Observe the colour change, blah, blah.

Exams.

You suck.