As the rain drops fell steadily, I sat by my window... I could feel my heart smile and starting to hum a song. My fascination with "Rain" began in my childhood, I think...when I remember sitting on my dad's lap watching the downpour, while he read out the newspaper aloud for me. He would let me play in the rain, despite life -threatening protests from my mother.. and I would jump around on my open terrace..... in my tiny muslin dresses.... all drenched, but happy like a butterfly......I remember feeling this immense curiosity on how the sky could holdup such huge amounts of water and still pour it with such a steady hand. I loved the way the drops felt on my skin, how nice my hair felt when it got wet, and I how felt free when I was in the rain. When you hold a large drop of water on your fingers...the looked into it...you can see the world...reflecting in such an amazing clarity.
When it City -rains come the whole world changes....the dust settles down, the leaves wear a shiny new coat and glisten in the light which bounces of the tiny specs of water. Streets make an unworthy attempt to soak it all in, but the water refuses to seep into the concrete cervices only to become puddles and mud ponds. People who were bearing brunt of the scorching heat of the dreadful summer months....wear a smile on their faces when they walk thorough the slow..soft rain...it is as if everyone is playing a song in their heads and swinging to the unheard personal rhythm. I know I do this.....I sing to myself when I walk…and I walk to the tune playing in my head....my eyes hurt from trying too hard to soak in all the beauty which suddenly seems to spring to life when it starts to rain.....my memories always have rain in them or I remember things which happened to me on the days it rained.......those sudden afternoon showers…I remember walking back from school with friends....in absolutely no visible hurry ......relishing the weight of drenched clothes, wriggling my toes inside the shoes which make the funniest squeaky noises when filled with water...
and then sitting in soggy smelling college class rooms, inevitably looking out of the broken window planes to see the noisy rain splattering on the well manicure university lawns.....all this, while letting the words shelly, Keats, Byron wash over your senses and transport you to a different realm....those chilly wet Winter rains…. I am sitting at a road side cafe sipping countless numbers of coffee refills...and realizing that I don’t have enough money in my wallet to pay for them.....of making a sad face to the old woman at the counter convincing her that you will pay up tomorrow ......memories of holding hands, fleeting glances, sweaty palms, half done smiles.....words not spoken...or words to many... and then there is the Magical tropical rain which falls and runs through small brooks and tiny pathways of the place you call “home”....the persistent rain...which seem to last of days and days......I feel so much at peace watching the water pour down from heavens ,nourishing the soil, preparing it for the other seasons to come, filling the ponds and wells with life- giving water.. the memories of sweet smells of love emitting from my mum's kitchen...notes of music floating through doorways which housed your childhood...it is déjà vu all over again.......as I watched today the cloudy skies and the impending promise of “Rain”………… I feel the bond to nature and its most amazing phenomenon ……I am happy to be alive to experience this differently each and every time....... I still do have the rains to look forward to and the memories it will bring with it………..
