Aamaya - Night rain.

. . ."Aami", amma was calling her for a long time. But Aamaya was busy searching for papers, newspapers. She was always fascinated by the sky growing dark and the sudden drops of rain. She would steal newspapers, because her muthasshan never allowed. She would then turn on the radio and listen to the 90's old hindi songs. She would fold the paper into two halves and start making boats of different sizes. Newspapers, with people she never met and words she never knew; was her only comfort. She would then place one after the other in her big nadumuttam and watch them go. She used to watch them for hours.
As rain fell like pearls from the dark heaven, each boat would start sinking. The world has always been depressing. She sat there empty and crestfallen. Those boats were her dreams, her love, and herself. And one by one, it drowned. All of it.
How can the things you love the most ,kill the things you love the most? She smiled for she knew she was too greedy to love and too selfish to let go. That night had taught her to fall endlessly and never look back.
Next morning, the boats were still there, soaked and scrap. And Aamaya didn't bother to look at it again.
Because she had found solace in that night rain.