When it rains #WordsMatter
The wind blows gently as dark, grey clouds gather in the sky. I make a cup of hot ginger tea and I settle down beside the window, waiting for the magic to happen. For there is nothing else that I’d rather do when it rains. For the pluviophile in me rejoices when it begins to rain. Ever so slowly, it begins with the pitter patter of those tiny drops which soon become bigger and begin to fall down to the earth. The petrichor brings with it a wave of memories. And I begin to look back on all those things that happened when it rained.
When it rains, I’m reminded of my earliest memory of rains. It was one summer evening when Mom, Dad, my little brother and I went shopping. Like that occasional guest who comes without warning, it began to rain or rather it began to pour. We took shelter in a nearby shop, but the rain wouldn’t stop for a long time. When it finally did, the scooter wouldn’t start. Mom and Dad wrapped us up and made us sit on the scooter while they waded through water and Dad pushed the scooter. That showed me what selfless love was.
Growing up, I walked home in the rain with those colorful umbrellas and raincoats, munching on some corn cooked over charcoal. Often complaining, how the games period was cancelled because of the rain but making up for it all while jumping in puddles, splashing water. How easy it was to be happy then.
And then that unfortunate summer, when Dad left and it poured for days. I felt that nature shared my grief and cried with me. Those were the days, I couldn’t hold my tears for I still wondered how things had become so bad. Those were the days when I realized what death really was. I realized sorrow was hard to deal with and it was okay to cry.
I remembered then those innumerable rainy days when I was forced to the confines of my house, either because of illness or because there was nowhere else to go to, how I’d pick up a book and be lost in it. When it rains, I now crave to settle down with a book and escape reality which seems so mundane. Because I learned, that I could be lost in another place, in another time and that a book could take me anywhere.
And then I remember all those times after moving to a new city when I began to hate the rain ever so slowly. I couldn’t believe that I’d ever feel this way. But all those clogged roads, all the time that I was stuck in the rain and the times when I had to go hungry because it was too late to get anything to eat because of the rain brought about this feeling. Time went by, but I couldn’t hate the rain always for it had also brought joy at times. For there were days, when during a long, tiring day, I’d watch the drama of the clouds unfold in the skies, sometimes being lucky enough to find that beautiful rainbow in the sky. I couldn’t just hate the rain after all.
When it rains, I’m reminded of those first days of love when it rained without warning and we walked down the streets, under one umbrella. I loved that feeling when your fingers brushed against mine and that lovely smile you gave me each time that happened is forever etched in my memory.
I remember those days where I walked along a new city in a new country, undisturbed by the rain. There was joy in discovering new places and my spirit wasn’t dampened by the rain. There was an adventure as well. That time when I walked on streets where the air was laden with chocolates and entered into a shop. I’d left after an hour loaded with paper bags filled with chocolates and the rain caught me unprepared. I had an umbrella but I had way too many chocolates and the rain was way too heavy. The paper bags tore in the middle of the street and out fell the chocolates. I somehow managed to save all the chocolates but got back drenched. But I had all those chocolates and a story to tell.
When it rains, I’m reminded of all these memories that make me smile and sometimes also bring that occasional tear. But sometimes, I’m scared. Scared of nature’s fury, of all the troubles caused by the rain, of the lives that have been lost, of all those lives that have been destroyed. I hope that we could do something and stop nature from unleashing its fury. I hope we save Mother Nature and all of us.
I now wish my memories of the rain, though bittersweet, remain just like this and may not be destroyed by the passage of time.
What is your favourite memory of the rains?
I received this tag from Shinjini at Modern Gypsy. It’s my pleasure to pass on this tag to Apeksha Rao. There are 42 of us on this Blog Hop and it will be spread over 3 days – 6, 7, 8 September 2019. Do follow the #WordsMatter Blog Hop and prepare to be surprised!