The sky turns black, the winds are high,
The warning of the stormy sky.
The first drop hits the dusty street,
To break the unforgiving heat.
The children run into the rain,
To wash away the summer pain.
The earth drinks deep, the rivers swell,
Fulfilling all that nature tells.
Aarav documents the beautiful, colorful, and overwhelming chaos of urban life. His poetry acts as a camera lens, capturing brief, intimate snapshots of strangers on trains, street vendors in the rain, and the shared humanity...
The baskets full of spice and grain,Beside the tracks of passing train.The chatter rises with the sun,Before the...
The rusted wheels begin to squeal,A heavy, metal, moving beast of steel.The vendors push right through the crowd,With...