Ramblings of a recent pluviophile.

Thursday, July 14, 2016

Some days you get up with a glorious sense of purpose, filled with positivity and an urge to complete all the pending tasks, take on new ones and have a productive, energized day where at the end of it you feel satisfied with the accomplishments of said day and a sense of fulfilment.
Today is NOT one of those days for me. I have them on and off, but not today.
Today is one of those days, where I want the dull overcast skies to open up and browbeat us into submission, into taking shelter and watching the rains pelt down.
Today is one of those days where I want to laze about my cosy flat, sipping endless cups of masala chai, observing the clouds pass by, munching on potato chips and surrendering myself to binge-watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S.
You, of course can see where I am going with this right!
I miss the rains. I am not a true blue pluviophile. Rather I am a recent convert.
For the longest time ever I hated the rains. Hate is a very strong word though; I just didn’t like them rains. And being from a place that worships and heralds the showers, I didn’t quite understand the whole fuss about it except that the crops and the running water depended on it.  To me, the rains were symbolic of early morning cuddling inside the bedsheet, not wanting to go to school, uniforms that never dried and the slush and mud that soaked through the shoes and socks. School always reopened after the summer vacation at the outbreak of the monsoons and it was simply uncanny how it always used to end up raining exactly around the time we had to leave for school.
But off late, I crave for these bursts. Being in a place where rains are more like ‘switch-on-switch-off’ phenomenon, I miss the monsoons back home dreadfully. In fact, my whirlwind trip this time home had a specific wish attached to it. R.A.I.N.S. And I got my wish and quite a lot of it too. :)

(C) Aishwarya Ananth
I think there is a deep bond that is attached to it, that I have discovered recently.
The smell of the earth, the feel of those first few beads hitting you squarely, the first blast of the chillness that knocks into you, the puddles, the splashes, the leaves tinged with the dewy droplets, the feet that get wet soaked through the sandals that you wear, the sense of calmness that pervades you, the beating heart that settles into the rhythm of the pitter-patters on the rooftop, the nostalgia that engulfs you, the feeling of freshness, new starts and that of washing away vestiges of despair and ire. …. I can go on and on… and of course curling up with a hot tea, a book and enjoying the rains never really hurt anyone, did it? ;) :)
(c) Aishwarya Ananth 
I understand that feeling now. The fuss that people back home make about the rainstorms. There really is no comparison, is there? I have seen and felt the rains at plenty of places. But nothing really compares to the feeling that you get when you enjoy it back at the hometown – the place that you are born and raised.
And that my dear friends, is a feeling akin to nothing else. 

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