അ 'തിഥി'

 Heavy rain is pouring outside and I have got these mixed feelings about rain. The pitter patter covers me with a sense of safety and security which I am not familiar with and immediately another thought creeps in... "What about those who sleep on streets and dangerous places. The safe heaven suddenly turns into a hook which ut me...a silly cut....not too deep but always burning....   But if I look into this pain from another dimension everything just changes. One day I just came across a poem which portrays a child wo is agonizing about the poor and wretched people on the street in a rainy night. The image stuck with me as if it is fixed in the canvas of mind with a super glue. I just turned myself into him. So this is not even my 'own' (Don't ask me whether there is any meaning in the word 'own'). I have just used that piece of literature just because it sounds beautiful.   So what about our 'feelings'. Is it really ours...and what about my compassion...