Rain
Thursday, Jan. 29, 2004 3:25 p.m.
I will not say that I hate the rain..
I've always loved it. I love the pitter-patter sound the rain makes on the windows, and I love the rustle of the leaves, heavy with rainwater, in the accompanying wind. I love watching the streaks of water running down the panes over and over again. A rainy day means a lazy afternoon curled up in bed with a good book and a mug of hot chocolate or coffee, your fat cat sleeping on your lap. If you're lucky.
When it rains, the whole world stops talking to listen to the sky crying for a change. No one can out-talk the rain. We have to listen respectfully, and in the act of listening we hear other sounds, the small, familiar yet seldom-heard sounds of our soul. And suddenly we don't fight the rain, we don't try to shout above the noise to be heard, becaue we don't want to talk anymore. We want to listen. We turn inwards.We find ourselves sometimes. We find peace.
So I will not say that I hate the rain. But I will say this much about it: it's really annoying when I can't catch a cab in a downpour; it's icky when my feet get wet and nasty walking on wet puddly sidewalks; and sometimes I feel as grey as the sky; and the fate of my fitness routine, always in danger of dissolution from my own laziness and apathy, is sealed the moment I see droplets on the concrete. The rain can do that to me. But I'm always, at the end of it, thankful for the moment of introspection it gives me.
If it didn't rain, I may never have learnt a few important things about myself.
Older entries
Ramadan - 08 October 2006
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Baby Talk - 10 August 2006
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Unacceptable Rudeness - 21 June 2006