The First Rain

It is pouring heavily, the first rain. The smell from parched earth and I feel like eating it. Then I smile, to myself and say silently “that’s like a kid” and smile again, more at the thought of my childhood than the idea of eating earth. I wait under the shed and look in to the darkness around and extend my hand to feel the invisible rain through my skin. I feel the droplets hitting me at my palm and arm. They are cold and giving a pleasing sensation to my skin. I bring my hand back close to my eyes and in the intermittent lightening flashes see the tiny sparkles on my palm and arm. My hairs are raised, and it’s not due to cold. It’s the sensation of drops on my skin which has caused them to rise. Another lightening flash and I look at these hairs again.

Black, short, upright.

I remember when I was a child they used to be golden in colour, now they have turned black.

Just like my heart.

From golden to black, from gold to coal, and I hardly noticed it. That’s like most of us.

The wind has started blowing and I feel a cold gush on my face. I love it. I feel like running into the open, to feel the heaven pouring from above and fresh oxygen going into my nostrils with a rush. I used to do it when I was a naughty kid. I would steal myself from my parent’s eyes, have a gala time splashing in rain and would come back home completely drenched to be thrashed by them. They thought I would fall ill which I never did. Truly speaking I did sometimes, but then I fell ill sometimes even without getting soaked.

Haan, I come back from the nostalgia where I had been diverted just now and try to remember what I was thinking. Yes, I was feeling like having a splash in the rain. I think again. I want to go, but something is holding me, I don’t know. There is no one to thrash me when I come back soaked, but still I am unable to take the step forward, towards the open. There are others who are also in the shade, waiting for the rain to be over. I think again and decide to wait like them. Then, to give more support to my decision, my mind argues that I will fall ill if I get drenched in rain. My heart accepts the argument and I relax and wait leisurely for the rain to end.

One more lightening flash, this one of very large intensity and duration, and I can see the branches of trees dancing to the tune of thunder, the tiny rain drops making waves in the puddles, the green grasses bowed under the weight of water. Despite the continuous dripping sound and the intermittent thunder bolts it feels so calm, so serene.

Suddenly I feel an urge inside me; I can’t wait in this shade anymore. I need to enjoy the first rain, I need to feel the elements of life dripping over me, soaking my body and giving some of the simplest joys of the world.

On an impulse I take the plunge and start walking out of the shade. I feel the rain coming from the front, hitting my head and face with a force, piercing deep into my skin. I contract my eyes in order to avoid the water getting into them, extend my hands and keep walking. I keep walking for a while, lost in myself, thinking about many things but unable to recall any of it. I manoeuvre my way, avoiding any of the puddles on the road walking slowly, whistling in a low volume and wiping the rain from my face. It is a little cold and I feel a very faint shivering in spine. I stop my whistling and start humming old romantic songs. Although it doesn’t stop my shiver, it definitely helps. I see a big puddle and I run around it, I jump in it, splashing the just dropped water, making a big whirlpool. It is joyous experience and I like it.

I reach my home, dry my hairs from a towel, change the wet clothes and retire to the bed. While dozing off, I think about the first rain. It’s just like love. We give different reasons to keep ourselves away from it and thereby deny that indescribable joy which we could get. I ponder more over it, re-read whatever I have written replacing the rain with love and find a very striking similarity.

Yes, this rain truly taught me that Life was what that occurred to us when we were busy planning for it. We were busy concerned about planning for the life at the time when all we needed to do was take a plunge and feel these simple joys of life.