I went to bed and woke in the middle of the night
thinking I heard someone cry. Thinking I myself was weeping, I felt my face and
it was dry.
Ray Bradbury’s
words came to me as the rain battered my window last night. I had taken the picture of the clouds in the
evening while I waited at the bus stop for someone to arrive. Rain is nothing new in Kerala where I have
found my current shelter. From the time
I came here four months ago, it has been raining almost every day for some time
at least.
There was a
time when the rain was romantic for me.
The rain has a music that enters your very being and pervades it like an
exquisite flavour. While in Delhi, I
used to long for the rain. To drench the desert of Delhi with heavenly
flavours. To quench the thirst that runs
through Delhi’s veins like a paranoid monster.
To soften the fossilised souls of the deities that grab Delhi square
foot by square foot. To wash clean the insensate
idols that encroach upon the rights of people who are like the flowers buffeted
down by forces stronger than feeble goodness.
Now the rain
has lost its romance for me. I can only
hear cries when it rains. The heavens
roar thunderously here in God’s own country.
Wherever you
go, there’s no escape from the gods.
That’s one of the few certainties we have in life. They come, grabbing, snarling, licking the
window panes, sucking, sucking your blood.
I make sure
that the window is bolted and go to bed. I feel my face to make sure it is dry. I fumble about for the dripping sleep and
listen to the ceaseless roar outside.
How did my romance mutate into a monster?
That’s life,
whispered the angel of sleep. Let me put
you to sleep, it said.
Amazing write up on rains and tears.
ReplyDeleteOne good thing about the rain is that it conceals your tears: washes them away :)
DeleteA deep sense of melancholy.
ReplyDeleteWhereas rains used to excite me earlier. But excitements have their lifespan too, I guess. Perhaps, religion is all about losing excitements and becoming sober. And religion played a lot of games with my life...
DeleteYeess,there was a time.Now,the schedule is always so tight that I can't feel what rain is! It is now,as all things are,just happening around,with me having nothing to do with it.And Gods.I agree about your verdict on Gods.Monstrous and insane.After all,they are bourne of the human head,one of the most disastrous side of it,may be.
ReplyDeleteDisasters, indeed, they are! And we think disasters are their punishments for our sins!
Delete"Wherever you go, there’s no escape from the gods. That’s one of the few certainties we have in life. They come, grabbing, snarling, licking the window panes, sucking, sucking your blood..." Amazing! Brilliant!!
ReplyDeleteThe best period in my life was a Jupiter year that I spent without any religious people around. And then came a new management which brought in the bulldozers literally. The whole lot of them were bulldozers metaphorically too. They rule the world. And they believe they are right and righteous....
DeleteEven few drops of rain are always welcome in Delhi. You are right about Kerala. I guess excess of everything is bad. Love the poetic touch to this post. Rain and tears have a strange romantic connection.
ReplyDeleteRain and ecstasy too have a romantic connection, Saru. :)
DeleteA great write up. Enjoyed reading it :)
ReplyDeleteThank you.
DeleteThis is one sentiment that I can precisely understand. Growing up in Madhya Pradesh, Bundelkhand especially rain was a welcome song that my parched eyes welcomed. Now, that I am in Bengal, rain has lost the romance for me. Beautiful write up as always. exceptional comparision
ReplyDeleteIt's more about a mutation than the comparison. Kerala is used to rains and no amount can be an excess here really. In fact, according meteorologists, the rains have shifted from Kerala to Tamil Nadu partly at least. The Tamils who were clamouring for more and more water from the Mullaperiyar dam may have their thirst quenched now: they are praying for reprieve from the rain!
DeleteLife is such! And the post is about that - not about Tamil Nadu but about life and what it did to me personally in some ways...
How beautiful....As I read this yesterday (I couldn't post my comment then), I was feeling the wetness o my cheeks although I didn't cry...It was as if you sent the rain here to me through your words, and with rain came the pain and the cries, the source of which I didn't know. But I have often felt it too. As my kids enjoy the rain, I sometimes have felt a throbbing inside. That throbbing tells me that there is something left vacant inside and that emptiness brings pain. And then there are times when I want to look up in the sky, close my eyes, and let the downpour drench me completely, as if in a cleansing way.
ReplyDeleteYour comment is more poetic than my post, Sunaina. Face turned to the sky, eyes closed, being washed by the poem of the heavens... Yes, that's how the rain should act on us. If it doesn't some cleansing is called for. But repeated failures can make us immune to further cleansing. Even the rain becomes a monster.
DeleteNow I am all afraid of rains...chennai chapter! I hate it when it pours incessantly.
ReplyDeleteCataclysmic changes in climate patterns can be expected because of what we've done to the planet.
Delete