The bright
sky is suddenly hit by massive clouds that give the horizon a dull bluish-grey
colour. Everything around me seems to mellow down in anticipation of an
inevitable metamorphosis and I get a whiff of the most enchanting scent in the
world. As I look upwards, trying to discern the various shades of blue and grey
that the sky bears, I feel a droplet of water on my forehead. I close my eyes
in pure bliss and immediately feel another drop on my eyelid. I open my eyes,
and the drop slowly descends my face and it’s like I’m shedding tears of joy.
The two
drops soon turn into a steady drizzle of rain. I contemplate mimicking my
fellow pedestrians and running into a nearby shop to avoid the downpour and the
resulting nasty bout of illness. But then the lure of getting my own natural
cleansing session deters me from following suit. I walk down the street with a
smile that seems to increase with the intensity of the rain. The rain drops
send me to my happy place where I can jump puddles and twirl and dance in the
rains without the risk of coming across a lunatic to any onlookers.
And hence
every year, the first rains send me into a state of pure unadulterated joy. I
can’t explain that feeling. I could equate it to the feeling that you get when
your crush smiles at you, or the feeling of utter content at the end of a
really good book, or when you get recognized for a job well done. All I can say
is that it feels like my heart swells to twice the size and that I fall in love
with my life all over again.
On a good
rainy day, I like to sit curled up in a blanket with a cup of tea and
people–watch from my balcony. I observe the different people walking by my
building, carrying umbrellas- some plain and black in colour and others with
bright floral patterns on them. I like to make up stories about them- like the
woman who’s frowning because she’s sure that her husband won’t get the leaking
roof fixed and she herself would have to get someone to do it for her; or how
the kid who’s walking to school is praying that it rains hard enough today that
his school gives him a half day.
Another
favorite pastime of mine during the monsoons is listening to romantic hindi
songs in full volume and waltzing or rather half-waltzing to them. You could
argue that the puddles of dirty water, the bad roads and the heavy traffic do
anything but inspire romance. But the monsoons without fail bring out the
romantic that lays dormant inside of me and the numerous monsoon related love
songs that are released every year, only add to the romance in this season.
Over the
years, the significance of rains has changed for me. When I was a kid, the
rains meant picking out new umbrellas (the ones with rabbit ears or the ones
which doubled as water guns :D) or
raincoats, singing “Rain Rain go away come again another day”, thinking it
would really work if I replaced Little Johnny with Little Sruti and scanning the skies for
rainbows on the off-chance that it rained when the sun was out.
Today the
rains for me mean a new beginning; it could be attributed by the fact that the
new academic year starts around the same time. Every year when it rains, I look
back to all that I have accomplished the past year and look forward to moving a
step towards fulfilling my dreams. The transformation of everything from a dry
dull brown to a lively and vibrant green stirs me to transform myself. It
inspires hope in me. It gives me the feeling that I’m going to do something
great the coming year. Whatever I do that year may not figure high on the scale
of greatness, but that doesn’t stop me from believing that this next year is
also going to be a milestone in my life.
In a few
words, the rains add life to my life……..
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