Summer rain

We love rain in the tropics, especially when it comes on a summer day while you are drenched with sweat. In our folklore as well as in our literature rain is really a sexy motif. This may be difficult to understand for those who live in the cold countries. They might not be able to attach the same significance or realize the romantic under-tones the rain brings to the hearts of people like us.

We had a very good rainy season in the last monsoons which is just over. The summer is heating up. The last few days were deadly hot. Our preference, or should I say our dependence on concrete buildings makes it worse than it is. I remember Sartre’s “Iron in the Soul” where the heat is described as an octopus by the protagonist in the early chapters. Or am I wrong?

To tell you the truth I would rather suffer heat than the cold. My few brushes with cold have not been very inspiring.

Suddenly on this day the rain fell. And immediately people began to say things against her. There is a quaint saying in our land that the “the mother of rain is always sad” for if she does not come people curse her and if she comes they curse her again. Both causes inconvenience in the little lives of people concerned. I too had my own inconveniences to think of. For one thing I had to put on the gear before venturing out and I hated the extra burden on top of my safety gear when riding a bike. And for another, on our roads driving in rain can be a hair rising adventure.

You should live in India to experience that.

The rain got through the overalls to my skin during the 45 minutes ride to my home from workplace. I had a dozen scares on the road too, but that was minimal. I did not mind both. At one or too places the roads were submerged, and considering our wonderful innovation of filling every sewer with mud and rubbish that too was below the usual trouble level.

I always feel near Mother Nature whenever I feel the rain on me.