Rain is a self indulgent monster. It is the cacophonous
conundrum of a thousand drops beating on the leaves of the trees in a dissonant
droll. The only thing it knows how to do best is fall. It entertains itself
over the fact that it can fall in a downpour or it can come off as a soft
drizzle. It is the master of its mood.
Rain is merciless. When it rains, without leniency, it will
drench us to our bones; No excuses of a forgotten umbrella or a day in a white
overall, it will drum over you too! Rain is a formidable fable. So you better
be accoutred when you step out of that threshold friend, you better check if
you have by misfortune left your umbrella by the side of the door. You better
pack your raincoats the night before to be safer than the safest. Rain never
spares you!
Rain gives me the shivers. Rain is unfettered. It knows no
boundaries. Rain comes down with all its mirth and all the waffle. It shouts
out all its thoughts that it had held on for days in the dark clouds. Neither
has it anything cached away, nor any propriety. Rain has no I and no us. Rain
is just plain water when we look at it from a cursory vantage. But, I have a
history with rain.
I don’t like to get wet in the rain. Rain traps me inside my
house. It is a cascading curtain of water that inundates me in a void. Rain is
a juggernaut phenomenon that knows how to make me innervated. It makes me
envious of all the venting it is privileged to. When it rains, I stay indoors and
listen to all the anger and whine it pours out. It is indefatigable sometimes
and it goes on for hours. But, rain is
one lucky fellow who can throw any tantrum it wants to and still be normal. Rain
makes me want to rain.
