Rains.

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There is nothing like rains. Rain has always fascinated me since childhood. We used to vacation to India every year in the months of July and August. And I have so many memories of those days.

We had this huge courtyard in the middle of our house. Mom was always afraid we’d fall sick, so she never let us out in the rain. We made lots and lots of paper boats with her and sometimes with grandpa. And sailed them across our roofed hall into the courtyard. It was not a very pleasant sight though. We made those paper boats out of newspaper and they sank so quick, they broke our little hearts.

I remember back in KSA, once mom and dad went out shopping. They left my siblings in my care. It began to rain. More than them, I was afraid of the thunder. There was this yellow blanket, I kept hiding under it, every time it thundered. My siblings, for some strange reason weren’t afraid at all. They laughed at me when I asked them to hide too.

It rained hailstones one May. We ran out of our house to collect them in a metal bowl. But the hailstones were tiny. I never got another chance again. My mom told us we should eat them. I don’t really remember why, but something was supposed to happen if we ate them.(probably something boring or unbelievable, I would have remembered otherwise!)

We had to go to school during the rain. We weren’t allowed in the ground though. But it was fun jumping in the rain puddles, when no one was around we’d sneak into the ground. The janitor lady used to come running behind us with a stick.

For some reason, as we grew up, it rained a lot less in KSA. I went through some emotional loneliness during my late teens. Lack of friends was the main reason. I had friends. But my best friend left for India. And nobody could fill that void. I had no one to call up or meet up. That depression threw me into poetry. And whenever it was too much to handle I’d cry in a corner. Whenever I cried though, it would begin to rain. It gave me the feeling that the sky understood me. It would cry with me. That’s why, I love rain. It was in those days that I developed an immense love for stars, moon, night, sky, sea, water, everything about nature actually.

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Eventually life brought me out of that depression. I learnt to deal with being lonely even if I am in a crowd of people.It doesn’t really matter any more. But every time it rains, I feel connected to nature. A part of me jumps with immense joy.

As I lay my head to sleep now, 12:16 am, my heart feels empathized, as I watch the heavens pour out from window. I long to drench myself in the cold rain, to stand on this empty road of a vacant street. I can feel that silence echo from within me. A silence that has always unnerved my soul. Only the rain, always the rain, has quenched the thirst of company, momentarily, until it stops.

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So many restraints. So many chains. Too hard to synchronize with the thunder, to let out, to walk freely, to breathe. Like the anguish of the lightning, I’ll just have to lash out once in a while, and then drown away in the pitter-patter of the rain.

Rain…I always love the rain…..

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