Rain just hammered down on my stall’s tin roof, same sound as last week in those Sahyadri forts, no? Only difference there, the smell was wet earth and old stone, not my brother’s chicken 65 in the pan. Still thinking about that one ridge, where the mist came so fast it hid the valley… like someone took a giant ladle and stirred the sky, only. Back to counting cinnamon sticks now, yaar.
#maharashtra#monsoon
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