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‘Nariyage Magula’ “Here I am, an old man in a dry month, Being read to by a boy, waiting for rain” No rum today. No matter. About nine in the morning there is a welcome shower. The sky is blue, the sun is shining and we have this utterly welcome shower. I am not going to miss this. I drag my plastic armchair: I bought one because it’s so light that I do not have to call someone to bring it for me. I drag it to the open door; sit, and watch the rain. The water comes down from the roof and into the drain, flowing without hindrance. The flow keeps ricocheting off the sides of the drain generating a sort of lattice-work of ripples. Odd bits of flotsam, dried leaves float down. The water flows along and the lattice-work seems almost static, but it’s not. Raindrops fall, and ...