It is the season of monsoon, drizzle, downpour, hazy skies, a moment of the sun peeking out and vanishing again. It is when the mountain comes down to the plains to pay a visit, to advertise herself and tempt us all to enjoy her year round coolness in her ups and down slopes, at a hill station nearby. It was when I was clicking those pictures when I remembered, on those very ranges in summer long lines of the fiery flames stretched, and from that my mind jumped to the children shreiking on the next street at their game. It was musical, "🎶 fire on the mountain, run, run, run....🎶" ( You can give a musical note to the lines, when you read it) It was a beconing, drawing me from my house to see them at their game. They were about a dozen under tens, and I was within minutes in chorus with them, "run, run, run," and when a number is called they all clamour and hug, to form a team and the left out is out.( I was an audience clapping) Those days were before the pandemic, the children are getting to grow, all within the walls of the home. Normal days will come, but the games may or may not, trends are changing, lessons and games too..... Many will be watching the rain drops falling on the pavement.