The location of my seat in the office is such that, even if the day of resurrection arrives, and the whole universe is destroyed, I’ll be the last one to get to know about it and run.
Whether it is raining, or is sunny, I get to see only when either I go to the cafeteria for lunch or down the stairs for outdoor work.
When I climb down the stairs, even then, I can’t see the weather.
I keep guessing it with the footprints at the door of the lifts. If I see drops of water and wet foot prints, a smile curves my lips- for it signals rain. If I don’t see such things, an inverse curve makes my face frown.
Rain is a ‘big’ reason of joy, for me, still.
It still makes me happy, like earlier.
Nostalgic...
While the watchman sitting at the entrance always get bewildered to see my uncommon expressions when I see that it is raining. While people make faces and put out their rain coats in an ‘uff’ gesture, my overjoyed face can’t hide the felicity. I feel the urgent need to zip my lips, when somebody tries to read my delight laden looks.
Like others, I too have to behave as if I am also bugged with the untimely rains. With a sullen face to show them, I open up my umbrella, and take off with a swoosh for a wonderful walk in the bent dripping green trees; wet, extra blackened road; full of green and yellow leaves and colorful-wet-round umbrellas; the sweetened humid 22 degrees breeze; the washed look on the faces of flowers and leaves of the pots and flower beds, and the slanted falling little droplets of water- giving a romantic blurred vision of the scene. I just love it, before anything else.
It gives me a feeling as if this whole arrangement is made for me- to make me feel blessed and privileged. As if signifying, that the best moments are not waited for, or can’t be secured, but are meant to be consumed and enjoyed NOW!!!
Minutes after a fresh downpour, the ground looks dried up...as if it didnt rain at all...Sometimes I think, even the thirst of the earth is like mine- INSATIBLE...
I wish I could stretch the rainy season for the full twelve months.
Every single day, till Ramzan ends, is going to be so special.
Each time droplets fall over the asbestos roof of the mess, or the metallic ceiling of the local train, it works as an automatic reaction of rain hitting the ground, and I feeling to touch the sky.
Even if I am deep asleep, the noise of kad kad kad kad produced while the wooden windows are hit with the watery waves, wakes me up- either it makes my dreams rosier, if I continue to sleep or it keeps me awake at night...
How much I have longed for it!!!!
Simultaneously when it pours, it reminds me that just like water, life too, is dripping away out of my hands.
The handsome dark clouds that attract me like a hunk will be emptied soon… and in less than three months, they will turn pale and white under the yellow Sun of realities shining on their head.
Who will make me smile, who will indulge in the ‘come on, lets get going’ process with me...
Stretching out your palms in rain doesnt give you anything other than just making your palms wet....
So why this intoxication... this love, this yearning, this thirst, this longing, this craze... for a few drops.... 