Rain: Harbinger of a better tomorrow

Saturday, 4 June 2016

The sky painted itself in a shimmering silver colour today. It was beautiful. The trees moved in a funny way too. It had to be the calm wind which blew through them. I enjoyed how everything looked sparkling and new and how sudden the transformation had been. The shiny crystals fell like shards of glass from the skies.

All of it achingly reminded me of the place I’d just left. Suddenly, I’m guilty of having left it. The rain flares up memories which burned in my mind for too long, long enough to make me realize just how foolishly brave I was. Fool.  

And suddenly I miss it all just a little too much. I miss those walks at night. I miss the sudden plans. I miss travelling in local trains. I miss the coffee and the chai. I miss the knock at the door. I miss the garden. I miss the Nescafe station. I miss the cats. I miss the laughter. I miss the tears. I miss the races. I miss the sleepy mornings.  I miss the sweaty afternoons. I miss the pavement. I miss the staircase. I miss the dates in CCD. I miss the dates in McD.

And the worst part about it all is not the pain or the suffering, but the emptiness; an emptiness which keeps on getting bigger with every person who asks me to let go of what I’m holding onto because then it makes me realize that they’re asking me to let go of something which at the end of the day, defines me. After all, it’s easy to move on and let go. And whatever happens happens for a reason. It's what I've always been told. But isn't it obvious? Life is all about connections. When one thing happens, good or bad, it's followed by another set of things which instantly makes you connect it to what happened right before. It doesn’t necessarily mean that you have or that you must forget. Forgetfulness is addictive. I don’t want to forget, neither do I want to regret. I want to cherish, with all that I am and all that I could be. 

Oh I am just selfish today. Maybe it’s the rain. Because I wanted to sit under the bubbling water and play with the air around it. Thinking if I sat under it, it’d change me too. Like the sky. Change my colours, maybe. Paint me in its enchanting silver-ness, even if it’s just for a jiffy. Thinking I’d experience the same calm underneath when a million thoughts ran inside my mind, my body, chained in my memories, but only if those chains were replaced by threads of raindrops, soft on my skin, mixed with the saltiness from my tears, faintly holding my memories together for me.

And just like that, whenever it may rain, I’ll remember and I’ll cherish the memories, wear them proudly, maybe without an ache in my heart. Just maybe.

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