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Sunday, July 22, 2012

Here comes the rain Again

First the dimming of the bright sunlight, followed by the advancing cloud cover. The whole cityscape canopied by the dark cumulo-nimbus stretching over the skyscrapers and shanty huts alike. The trees, pedestrians, hawkers, dogs, beggars and cars all shaded from the harsh glare from up above. The stirrings of hope in every soul, the hope of solace – several glances at the dark mass of cloud above, some wishing to hurry back home, some hoping to just let it rain. And then finally the first draught of wind, the first drop falling on the heated asphalt paved roads, then on the parched skin of the forehead, hands and then it comes falling down in a dizzy, the drops competing with each other to reach the roads and trickle down to the drains. And the whole city sighs in relief and takes in the sweet petrichor of water on soil. While some shield themselves with their briefcases and bags and rush towards the nearest shade, I’d rather soak in it all. Why seek shade from both the fire and ice? There is a different charm in opening your umbrella and then walking down the road with the raindrops battering against your umbrella and all around you in a mad frenzy creating a strange melody of sorts – a very natural beat and rhythm against the urban-scape.

“I can show you

That when it starts to rain

Everything’s the same

I can show you”

-(Rain, The Beatles 1966)

I have always been in love with the rains, and so the fact that my favourite time of the year happens to be Monsoon is no big revelation. Be it walking in the rain with some good music playing through the headsets, the dark cloud cover all over my head, the fresh smell of water all around; or curling up in the sofa beside the window with a good book, a cup of coffee and maybe Enigma’s Rain Song playing in the background watching the water trickle down the glass – the rain has always been magical for me, reminding me of every bit of good memory I’ve ever experienced. From dancing in the water patches, splashing water all around  with naked feet in the childhood, to the ‘adda’ and carrom sessions with friends in the windy verandah, the rain gushing down outside, complemented with delicious pakodas and chai by mom, the rain has always been the time for me to be with friends and family. But Granny’s ghost stories on a powercut rainy evening, dad coming back home with hot cutlets and the family tea sessions have long past gone. The rainy days now have changed, albeit physically. It’s usually me sharing time with friends over books and movies or with mom over coffee now. But the essence of the rain has remained – the little drops of water falling on the earth still make my time the most pleasant and magical ever. The tinge of serenity and melancholia that the raindrops colour the whole city in, is too overpowering to ignore and not to love. At least for me.

“Here comes the rain again

Falling on my head like a memory

Falling on my head like a new emotion

I want to walk in the open wind

I want to talk like lovers do

I want to dive into your ocean

Is it raining with you?”

-(Here Comes The Rain Again, Eurythmics 1984)

-Signing off,

The Scatterbrain

(And till then, let it rain…)

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