Its been pouring down all evening and I am drenched. Drenched in rain, in happiness, in mad laughter and that slight twinge of sorrow just coz I cannot capture this moment in time and send it along to far away places. Are you ever too grown up to stop loving the rain? I hope not, ever!
Doesn't everybody have their own memories of rain? Memories of coming back from school splashing through puddles, of paper boats and road side rivers, of aai making a delicious hot snack even while scolding you for getting all wet, of riding the scooter with baba through streets flooded with water. Nursing cups of steaming chai while watching the rain streaming down glass panes, of two people sharing one umbrella. Of train rides, mountain sides, tea gardens, beach trips with the family. Watching the rain pelt the sea with gigantic drops, waves rising and falling, almost as if the sea were in torment. Of trees swaying and winds whistling. Hailstones. Thunder and lightning. Peacocks in their glory, albeit, at the zoo. And later, the glistening droplets left behind on leaves, the chocolatey-brown muddy water, the squishy canvas shoes and dripping hair and dresses :)
Rains are good, they nourish the earth. They nourish my soul. They can cause havoc. And yet can bring along so much joy. Either. Or. Everything seems to be a case of this or that. Two sides to the coin. Depends upon which side you are looking at right now :)
