I started Notes After Rain because I realised most of my thoughts seem to arrive at inconvenient hours, usually late at night, with rain somewhere outside the window, a neglected glass of scotch beside a stack of books, and the growing awareness that sleep has once again become secondary to thinking.

The series grew out of those hours. The interior hours where memory becomes unusually active, where certain passages from books return unexpectedly, where unfinished conversations, old ambitions, films, music, solitude, and small observations begin drifting slowly to the surface.

These episodes are reflections on books, creativity, art, ageing, emotional restraint, and the strange ways people continue negotiating with themselves internally long after the rest of the world appears asleep.

There are no grand conclusions here, unfortunately. Just conversations, observations, occasional existential drift, and the comforting possibility that perhaps none of us are quite as alone in our thoughts as we imagine.