Dark clouds.
The red gulmohar in all its glory.
A gust of wind.
Her umbrella blows away.
Getting wet in the rain.
Walking on the marine drive.
Not holding hands.
A funny feeling.
Am I back to where I belong?
Dark clouds.
The red gulmohar in all its glory.
A gust of wind.
Her umbrella blows away.
Getting wet in the rain.
Walking on the marine drive.
Not holding hands.
A funny feeling.
Am I back to where I belong?