Why i love Rain

Perhaps rain has pleasent associations. It reminds me of my childhood, my family and the mad dash of all cousins and neighbours within shouting distance to their roofs or gardens. To twirl or just stand around laughing pointlessly with our clothes sticking to us and our mothers beaming at our enthusiasm in their benign motherly manner. The smiles on the blades of grass and on the leaves of the trees in our yard. They literally look happy when it rains. And clean. That in itself has connotations aplenty. Its typical of the monsoon storms to hit in the late afternoon. So it transitions from the hot glare of an orange father figure sun to the mellow blur of a grey soothing concept. Its cold because of the drops. Its warm and humid for the temperature in the first few minutes doesnt fall. Rain, my childlike enthusiasm I hold on to. I am alive for it. I run around my house with it.

Perhaps rain is fulfillment. It brings with it the attainment of desires. It doesnt rain enough in Karachi. Its always delicious when it does. Whatever age i may feel. Singing in the rain. Raindrops keep falling on my head. I am in love with music. Getting what you want. I want so much. And it all comes true in the rain. It gives me hope. It is the back drop of an idiosyncrasy between the two. It awashes my mind with the connection between my physical and my mental. Whatever the soul may be. Mine is with the rain. The musical pitter patter. The light sting. The skies alight with streaks. The dimmed vision of the one you're standing right infront of. The scent of the damp earth. The melting mingling of sweetness and clarity with the tongue. Sound. Touch. Sight. Smell. Taste. Those are my senses. Consumated, complete.

Perhaps rain is emotion. Its signifies a change. Velocity. Chance. Excitement. It makes the earthy transcend. It encourages freedom. I would do alot in the rain that i wouldnt divine in the dryness of the crude day. I would take a leap. I stand in the middle of my drive way with the cynic, cluthing both his hands in mine, telling him that i love, i am, the inconceivable. And in the poignant moment, the non believer believes... Rain, inhibitions cant fight with abandonment in watercolour. Candor, you know what i want. Shower upon me my need. Wash away 'i cant'.