It was a rainy evening. Thick clouds stretched across the sky while a gentle drizzle fell with unhurried patience. Rain has a peculiar way of mellowing time; conversations become softer, thoughts become slower, and the world feels less interested in rushing anywhere. Then comes its scent, the smell of wet earth, which quietly awakens the senses, especially the ones reserved for nostalgia. Memories rarely ask for permission; they simply arrive with the rain.