the magic called rain

The first rain is always magical, the mud wet with the fresh scent that pleasures not one but all. The farmers looking forward to a great harvest, the children in the scorching heat, the trees, birds and animals thirsty and almost dead ...rain brings so much relief and happiness and the promise of great days ahead. It evokes love… hope. It enthuses emotions or perhaps it reignites them. It draws captive picturesque scenes... the kids playing in the rain, jumping in puddles, the trees shivering, umbrellas turning upside down when the wind pulls you along, people running to take shelter, and yet people running out to the windows to catch the rain in their palms, the mess, the suddenly unorderly traffic. Rains come unexpected and turn everything upside down. It is one of the times when you realize that you can sit and organize your life but some things are always unplanned and yet beautiful.

I have lot of lovely memories of rain like all of you. Some extremely special. I got my first pet during the rains, a rabbit, I ran with him outside to celebrate, forgetting he would get cold and spent the rest of the day nursing him. But his first rain caught to him, we loved rains, me and him. We would sit and watch the rains in the verandah. He loved tea like me and we would drink loads. There is something about a hot cup of tea, pakoras and rain. It’s a heavenly combination. It’s the sort of gratification that a hundred other important or more productive things can’t give you. I met my first crush too in the rains. Just a glance, walking in the rain, me struggling with the umbrella, he getting wet, I almost stared him down and he just turned around straight at me and smiled. Caught unawares, I walked away haughtily, heart thumping but its an innocent moment come and gone and you keep looking for it all your life in vain. Our school farewell was a sad cold rainy January day but all of us were walking around in sleeveless and backless cholies, ignoring the chill, capturing in our hearts the last day of school. In Noida where I grew up, the rains were rare but strong and hails were quite common with the rains. I remember running out with an umbrella with my friends, to the road, which would turn white by then to collect the hailstones and then store them for days in the refrigerator. The stones were white, rounded and clear. Rains in Kerala are beautiful especially because its already so green and lush ,when the rains add to the color, everything looks so rich. In Trivandrum where I did my engineering, it would pour every other day. We would wait hours outside the college gate waiting for buses which wouldn’t stop and autos which wouldn’t move, and chat endlessly, cold and shivering. Those were precious times.

It is a hot day today and it will be another two three months before it starts to rain, and I just can’t wait. Aquarian. Water being. Love water. And Impatient. So it kind of makes things worse. So till it rains, I should probably get distracted with other things.

The rain shall come
And then shall I dance...
On the wet mud
Sinking and glowing...

Rains come and go, but they leave marks that can’t be washed down in a thousand after pours.