Since I was a young kid rain has always held a fascination for me. Rain was pure, mystical and a unbridled display of nature’s bounties. I never felt any anger towards rain every time after a self indulgent bedraggling session would leave me sick and fighting off high temperatures. As I sit by my window now and watch the mild showers tickle down it conjures up memories of me and bro floating paper boats, catching tadpoles, splish-splashing till we were tired. Rain is when I feel connected with God. The roots of this feeling stem from a small blast from the past : When I was in my fifth standard is Carmel High School- Port Blair on the first day of school we had a welcome back morning assembly. Towards the end of the session it began raining heavily as we all began running back to class the principal Sister Realina announced over the mike ‘God has blessed this new academic year’ I stopped dead in my tracks and let the drops wash over my face and tried catching a few on my tongue. Many years have passed since that first incident but those words have always come back to me every time it rains. ‘God’s blessing you : my heart used to say’. As I moved along life from one disastrous academic setting to another rain was my only constant company.
The ever present heaviness I feel in my soul due to the constantly upsetting question of ‘ what do you want to do with your life ?’ is posed to me: I walk in the rain trying to seek answers; kinda like a spirit walk. Because I always feel, someday a special rain will come which will engulf me and tell me that my life’s purpose has not been futile and that though I may feel as a complete disappointment to myself I did good in the bigger picture of things; a picture that’s been hidden away so that it doesn’t turn me insane with it’s intricate beauty. I walk, I get wet, I look up and wait for my elusive rain of redemption.
Raindrops keep falling on my head
That doesn’t mean my eyes will soon be turning red
Crying’s not for me
I’m never gonna stop the Rain by complaining
So I just did me some talking to the sun.
– Ben Folds Five, Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head