When It Rains

I just love the rain.

It first begins with the smell, like an intoxicating perfume that can never be bottled. You can smell it in the sand, hours before it comes. It smells almost like calmness, like serenity, like an unusual type of comfort, one that you cannot even find under your bed covers. And when you look in the distance, you see that curtain of greyness drawing closer and closer, like the abstract presence of a hug.

And then when it pours, when you hear the hushed pattering of drops against the ground and the city roofs, you have to fight the urge to run or stay out, hold your arms out wide before you, look up and cry and scream for joy as rainwater – delicious and icy cold – floods your mouth. It is at this moment that your entire being flashes back to your childhood. You want to skip over puddles without wearing wellingtons. You want to stamp your feet in glee and run around overjoyed, wondering how slippery the ground has become and after how  long you will fall without getting the slightest iota of pain. You want to take your dog and go for a jog while you giggle innocently and your dog barks with excitement. Then, you want to sit with your dog in your patio, gazebo or simply the muddy ground of your backyard, have no worries about a flu, a cold or even Pneumonia, and simply stare at your tabby cat as it stares back, hopelessy willing to play with you but cannot because it hates water.

But sadly, all you can do is act mature because that is what you are expected to do. You are expected to run to the car and retreive your umbrella, or run to seek shelter while you hold up a flimsy newspaper or bag, either of them keeping you at arms reach from Mother Nature herself. You are expected to stay indoors while blessings pour outside, put on anime, a telenovella or a movie that you have watched over a thousand times, while you prepare a mug of hot cocoa which has long lost its exquisite taste. You are expected to lie lazily under your covers, contemplating the horrors that the next day (probably Monday) will bring, and debating whether buying a gun will help end the misery.

There are a lot of things you want to do, things that will let you feel happier and livelier, but noooo, you are much more contented with being miserable and losing yourself every single minute.

…Well, unless you are a writer like me. This way, you get to re-experience the joys of rainfall from the confines of your blankets without worrying about tomorrow, dirty laundry or Pneumonia.

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