(Based on a True Story) She, the human-she, was visiting and the hill-fort was on agenda for the day, along with a group of friends. This was on earth. The sky had another her, with him, destined to be on the same hill-fort. The weather those days was cloudy and sultry, calling for heavy showers. The Deccan skies of the subcontinent, saw a couple glide in on a weary day. The absence of breeze didn't help. Sighting a watershed seemed a distant dream. The search for the same was going off-path. Being off-path here could mean death. The about-to-rain skies looked like a sure shelter to the weather-beaten faces. She signalled him to stop. A cannon on top of a hill came in sight, surrounded by greens and a stone floor. It wasn't an ideal place, but looked welcoming. Water pond at the base of a curved precipice leading down from there sealed the deal. Coming closer, she saw there was hardly any water in it. It smelled of plastic and piss. But survival triumphs all considerations. He
The air picked them up on their drive. Driven across the sea were those tiny drops now. Condensed cold in the deep Pacific dropped them into the water. Drops dropped unceremoniously, unnoticed. Thousands of miles away, or maybe close to them on the South American mass, some students were learning about the same phenomenon. One of them was him. The drops glided on with their family as a container ship went by. Somehow, though they got crushed under it on the open seas. Got pushed hard and down on a soft and flexible floor. Many years later, a whale almost gulped them. But somehow it didn’t. Then stillness of the expanse followed for an indeterminable age. Lifeless as ever on water, in water. One day they rose. Rose on being beaten by an angry Sun. They collided with their counterparts from the Indian Ocean. In the massive comingling that followed they crossed over to the latter. There, the drops were gulped by a drowning Filipino. After twisting and turning uncomfortably in the hea