Rains

Heavy Rains.What picture does it bring into your mind? Water logging? Traffics snarls? School children splashing through the puddles? Common sights in any Indian city. However, being a freelance writer and working from the confines of my home, I tend to view rains from a more a romantic perspective. A rainy day invariably sees me away from my writing table, sitting on the window seat with a  cup of tea in hand,  looking at the raindrops falling persistently on trees outside and viewing traffic splashing through puddles. I enjoy listening to the sound of  raindrops falling on rooftops, a constant pitter-patter that often continue whole night through, and I remain awake to hear my favorite music or rhythm.

Rains in Gurgaon as viewed from my balcony

Especially beautiful are the mountain rains, where a thin mist like curtain formed by rains seem to create an aura of mystery, which beckons me, often forcing me to move out of home confinement and revel in the magic that lies beyond. A feeling that is almost diametrically opposite to the one I enjoy while I am at home in the city (Gurgaon) where I prefer remaining indoors while it rains.

Mist prior to rains in Himalayas - Dhanaulti

Smell of  wet earth after the first spell of rains is extremely enchanting. I have grown up in a place where there are  lakes (right in the middle of the city) and a great deal of foliage. After the first spell of  monsoon showers, the air would be redolent with smell of wet earth and wet leaves. This has been a part of my growing up years, and even today when it rains I unconsciously slip back to my childhood, carefree days that carried no sense of responsibilities.

Today when it rains and I sit sipping my tea while looking at the rains outside, my mind often remains burdened with work that I must finish, duties that I must carry out, and issues that I must sort. Yet, the first showers, somewhere within, still manage to awaken the child in me, where I want to get drenched and feel blessed as waters fall on me from the heaven above.

The Rain by William Henry Davies

I hear leaves drinking rain; 

I hear rich leaves on top 

Giving the poor beneath 

Drop after drop; 

'Tis a sweet noise to hear 

These green leaves drinking near.

And when the Sun comes out, 

After this Rain shall stop, 

A wondrous Light will fill 

Each dark, round drop; 

I hope the Sun shines bright; 

'Twill be a lovely sight.