Pluviophile

It has started. I can feel it. With my eyes, I greet every drop I see

from the window almost every night. When I am not feeling sleepy and I

can't bear the overload of unnecessary thoughts appearing in and

disappearing out of my mind anymore, then the sight of the timely

downpour becomes soothing and relaxing. It is not the sight, but the

sound of it, generated by the smashing of all the cold molecules

coming together; maybe to feel a little less cold of themselves,

forming shapes of many drops of water, made heavy with the force of

gravity, drenching everything in their way - That sound gets my

attention first, and brings a smile on my face when I turn my neck

absent minded towards the window, even with my eyes closed at times.

I like to keep the curtains open at night, I am too lazy to get up to

open the curtains and watch the show! It has to be a

contribution to the relaxation of mind and body. And getting up just

to brush those stupid meant-for-privacy curtains aside in order to get

privately intimate with rain, my rain... No, it is asking too much of

me. Besides, the rain must see me. It must feel my presence. How would

you feel if you went to visit your friend, and you find that the door

supposedly kept ready for you to approach him is closed, locked. The

rain comes at its own convenience. I may not be awake every time. The

rain at least should get a glance of me. The fury and the force with

which it thunders upon the grounds to make a sound audible enough to

reach my ears and wake me up, is often described to me by someone in

the house next morning, or some friend over chat who stayed late awake

last night. I always feel sorry for missing to see it, to greet it.

The poor thing does its best to please me, but never gets enough

admiration, proper acknowledgement for its efforts, most of them gone

in vain. Rain at night is a friend in need who comes to the rescue for

those like me who suffer from occasional insomnia. It may be the

beast destroying crops of poor farmers, it may be the monstrous force

drowning people with their houses and at times whole villages, it may

be the never grown-up problem child, ruining the transport systems of the

city, but it will always remain my best friend. The intimacy is so

powerful that while writing this little piece, I corrected my grammar

a numerous times while referring to 'him' - the rain (I won't correct

this one. It is deliberate). Oh rain, I simply love you. And I am too

possessive of you. I don't like to think that you shower your love

over everyone in the street wishing to join the most graceful orgy of

nature, with a geometrical relation of correspondence of one to many. I hate the idea, I

despise it. No, I prefer to imagine and to believe that it is often

you calling me for a shameless romance in the street in front of

everyone, a romance visibly transparent and naked. The showers you

drop and the waves you travel on to locate me, make everyone in the

way aware of the fact that here is the rain stepping out of its cloudy

and gloomy palace, in search of its friend, its lover. And then the evils think - Let us take

advantage of the situation, lead or mislead this beautiful queen of

pearls to get, to snatch, to grope some love reserved for its intended

recipient. Let us rob and share the most of it within ourselves, and

make her lover furious with possessiveness.

Yes, I am possessive about you. There are times when I think of you as my best friend, especially

at night. Then, you are my buddy, with whom I can share the naughty

thoughts I am aroused to think about at nights. In the daytime, rain

is my queen. It changes gender. It attains elegance; it unleashes

beauty out of each particle of it, right from the cloudy starting

line. That beauty is mine, it is meant wholly and solely for me. I

don't share it, I hate sharing it. When I see people using umbrellas

and raincoats, I feel safe. When I see people without any protection

running amuck with an irritated expression over their face, I feel

relaxed. When I see people crowding the entrance shades of shops on

both sides of the roads, I feel lucky. It is only when I see other

people, enjoying the rains, like me, with a smile on their face, that

I feel terribly insecure. This is not for you, I think, it is a

private property. It is not for sharing. Run along and get to your

houses, you have no right to feel the beauty of my queen. Go home, get

lost. However, it is not the same with minors. I don't mind at all

when I see school kids returning from school, slum kids dancing nude,

and enjoying to their fullest in the rains. Because they are innocent,

by age, by thought processes. Their minds are not yet narrowed enough

to be felt insecure of. Yes, to a certain degree they do make me feel

jealous. Jealous because they have no worries, jealous because they

are care free. But yet I feel secure, because their intimacy with

rain is purely of a sporting nature. When I play football, rain to me

is a sexy cheerleader, while it was just another player in the field a

few years ago, when I was as innocent as that. The innocence vanishes,

and so does the trust, the confidence, in others around us about

things precious to us. For me, it is rains and its precious drops of

water. For many, it is money. For many more, it is their daughters,

sisters, even wives and girlfriends. The things precious to us, are

respected by us. Things precious to us, are demanded and wished by many

of the undeserving merely for the purpose of sipping out all the juice

of them, without giving any respect in return. The idea of losing my precious

rain to such undeserving, gives me shivers. And the fools think

that I am shaking with cold. The fools will never know the warmth of

my relation with rain. The problem is with their sight. I don't know

why they blame the rains for appearing at a wrong time, in the wrong

place. Who the hell are they to tell my rain where to be and where to

not. My rain is a daring darling. It ignores all, and keeps on

searching for me, all over the places, at any time it pleases. I like

that, I respect that, and I encourage that.

- © KAUSTUBH PENDHARKAR