The rain has finally arrived, cold and cozy, every corner of my house invite me to lay back and dream of yesteryears. The fine drops sprayed down from the sky also carry tiny millions little memories in them. We used to run wild in the rain in the middle of rice field, hiding from the thunderstorm in the shady cottages, or just sit in the kitchen waiting for the hot delivery from the stove. I have thousands of such special moments happened that I could remember when the cold water showered down on me, rain is so my favourite season.
The rain has now washed the heat away from Pune, most especially it has purified the air to the clean and fresh zephyr. The earthy aroma disperse from newly wet mud circulate in the air seems to change the world to the whole new young planet.
When it first rained on June 2nd, we got up early morning and got to Pune university to just spot the seeds and new greens sprouted from the ground. The most lively green shades carpeted the yesterday brown sideways to the full of lives mini jungles.
We at last, heard crickets, birds and frogs celebrate the showering gifts from sky and it was perfectly rhythm and synchronized. We taught Yaseen to listen and notice how lives orchestrate at the beginning of the cycle. I taught him a prank we used to do in the morning of the rainy night. We would call a friend to look at something in the skinny bushy trees, “see there’s cute bird!” or “Look what’s that?” we would call her to be under the tree. When a poor friend blindly searched for the mysterious items, we would shake the tree, ran away and let rain droplets fall down on her. It’s a wicked play and everyone just loved it. My son loved it too. “More! More! More!” he shouted as we took him under trees after trees until we started worrying he might get sick, then we tried to teach him something else about the rain.
At night, the thunders retold the stories I heard manytimes, I finally had time to note them down and file them. I used to beg my parent for bed time stories and folktales in the rainy night and some stories repeated themselves hundreds time over many years of my childhood.
When lightning sparks over the cloud, it makes me see my histories so clearly. Something about the scary sudden flashes that ignite the pictures hidden in my brain and help me envisions many sweet memories.
Every year my birthdays remind me how I am growing and getting older, but when it rains and rainy season has visited, I felt rejuvenated and as if I had become younger again. I guess the way the rain gives life back to the ground, it has also given some back to me. I felt fresh and alive more than ever.
The rain sparingly dripping from the clouded sky, Yaseen and I take a break from our schedule and sit down by our balcony wrapped in thin blanket, the oven roars and blows the sweet garlicky smell from our roasted chicken throughout the house, we feel the most clam, cozy and inspire. We decided to revive our dead balcony garden with some jasmines, roses, basil, lemon grass, and bring more fresh and green into our home. The rain gives us hope and make us feel positive and happy.
How does the rain make you feel?