A drop, then another and another

It started with a single heavy drop , then another and another
They rolled down my cheeks, as if tickling me with a feather,
Not a single soul around to wipe those drops away,
They rekindle a nostalgia that I wanna keep at bay.

Sitting by the window sill, I savoured memories of the past
Which sported a smile here, a tear there - oh! it was so vast
While the drops ravished my face and made their way down,
I heard voices behind me; in them I felt my nostalgia drown
Oh no! I was no more in a space of my own.

It's time to get back to the cliched rigmarole,
To the mundane world returns my confused soul.

As for the drops rolling down my cheek, they rolled no more
For they were just raindrops; not tears as you thought, o sore!

Yeah it rained in Mumbai ... it was blissful getting drenched.