As I pause near a window, the rain stops.
And starts again.
And the trees, no longer green but grey,
menace me with their loneliness…
— Ruskin Bond..
The earth parched for water for months-it looks cracked, dusty and exhausted. One frantically looking forward to some thunder squeel for partial relief .At dawn, no sun yet visible but the sky already white with heat, crows rose from the dust laden trees; cawing disconsolately, then dropped to the ground sun struck. The city stank of somnolence, of dejection, like sweat stained clothes. Mother Nature does not always oblige and does not remains benevolent .She takes a severe test of patience and endurance as the city gasp and pant in the ragging summer. The plight is further exacerbated with no sign of rain bearing clouds. The very thought of global warming grips us and we realize the harm we are doing to the environment around us but these thoughts too are temporary. They disappear suddenly when one sultry evening darkness engulfs the city and stray flashes of thunder roars across the sky. The rains declare its arrival. It takes everyone by surprise.
The wind gradually gains momentum and becomes even cooler — an inevitable prelude to the impending rainfall for which the entire city was waiting eagerly and was raising a hue and cry. The rain surfs through the wind, whipping our face and blowing the very roots of our hair. Then big isolated drops starts falling. Those vertical molecules of water, falling from the sky, the wishes and whims mushrooming in everyone’s mind, be it a child or an adult. Weaving its way like the lines in a beautiful embroidery work is the freedom of a “Rainy Day”. The first drop indeed creates a strange sensation. It seems to get sucked into the skin as if announcing the thirst of the parched soul. Each drop represents a little bit of creation-and of life itself. The initial drops’ evoke a strange sensation, more so, as they come after a long laborious await and bring much needed relief. The first rains of summer… It is a symbol of hope and optimism and remains eternized in the memory of every being. The parched earth opens its pores and quenches its thirst with a hiss of ecstasy. Now, almost overnight, new grass springs up, there is renewal everywhere and a vivacious cheer in the air around. Suddenly our surroundings is full of green emerald carpets. The damp earth releases a fragrance sweeter than any devises by man. It brings joy to the earth, grass, blossom, creatures and the pounding heart of men.
Birds, insects and squirrels express their joy at the termination of the hot weather and the cool quenching relief of the monsoon. Small children run out of their homes to romp in the rain, plunge into a heaven of muddy water and maneuver the paper boats in the rain water lanes. Every time a heavy downpour fills up the potholes making it a dirty affair for us, we curse the gods and the governments. But our rational and mechanical mindset often tend to clouds our vision, making it impossible for us to see, that — children never bypass a puddle of water, but jump, splash, and slosh right through it. That’s because they know an important truth: Life was meant to be lived. Puddles were meant to be experienced. A mud spot on the fibre can be rinsed and will be gone; but the ecstasy of small momentary triumphs, that’s a lifelong delight!
The grey skies come clutching at our hearts and the rain drives us indoors and a hot cup of tea and a book at hand gives the ideal aura and we look forward to the sojourn at home. At other times we are just left incredulous by the sudden beauty of the rains and at once are ready to absorb the treacle offered to us by the nature…as if we all are a part of them and there is no escapade. The sky portrays a myriad colors and adds to the fascination of the nature and we can gaze upto a pure pristine blue heaven. Even the booming thunder transforms into a lullaby. Not to forget about the fragrance of the rain and the freshened earth and a strong refreshing aroma which lingers in the air for days. Getting sodden and draggled is of no wretchedness now and people enjoy it with great exultant. The paroxysm has no bounds and nothing dissimulates it. Washing away our inhibitions, it unlocks our imagination. Ever wondered where we see rain as its best? Is it in our longing for a rainy day so that the history exam gets cancelled or in our fantasy when we are singing in the rain. Or is it is the drawing book of every child, who paints rain in multiple splashes of colors.
How innocent the city seems, with a freshness on people’s face, they began to feel alive and whole again within this enchanting environment. So friends, next time you hear the rumbling roar of rains, enjoy the rains and let it wash away every bit of exhaustion and sorrows from your life.