The August Rain.
It used to rain a lot in November, and then mostly in the end of summer days - to remind us of its end, in July.
And now, it is August at last.
And there is rain, reprieving us of the heat, humidity, un-daunting sunshine that can’t dry the pavement fast enough and cleans away our beach footprints, while we brush away the sand off our feet. And say goodbye to all our summer friends. Thank the hosts of our journeys, the drivers, the stalls of endless shaved ice treats — and say see you next year.
And i always thought - monsoons are such a weird thing to clean the dust that percolated at the bottom of streets -but what a nice way to clean the oceans especially when it tidied up the weariness that came with the heat of summer, the cool winds are always a welcome respite to its onslaught, all year long.
It’s the reliance on a relentless rest, that is more like how we like to counter a very tired day with a cup of something hot - soup, tea, whiskey with some honey lemon whatever it’s called, or a movie with popcorn (in my case)- as it is luxury when you can lose your train of though for a consecutive two hours.
I think that getting lost- or the feeling of being lost- whether a metaphor used to describe “not being yourself today”, or “finding two hours of straying from roles that i ought” is a play day, and “losing yourself to the music” - kind of feels like that, almost.
I think there’s a lot to be said in explaining yourself, when given the query or invited to expound on something so simple, yet taken so wrongly.
If there was a TomTom or a Waze app for every person in the room, it must be exhausting to realise that the equivalent to this, would be to instinctively attune, and lend empathy to each one as you encounter them, or not. And whether they actually related to you directly, or not.
When the encounters on the daily feel more like “an incident” or “an accident”, it may be either exciting, or a welcome respite to the mundane. Or it can be a danger, or a solid stray from the hard-and-fast sold line that is the norm.
When storms and snow, hurricane or any other known weather disturbance occurs, it usually happens at a reckoning speed, not unwarned. But untold. It is that we either are: automatic in response (umbrella, boots, car) - or surprised, and collaborate an exchange with time, to delay to prepare better, or lose to its extreme change and sudden outpouring — your drenching from head to toe.
Sometimes, our lives occur at the corner of surprise-and-pleasant, at the safeguarded avenues - or at the corner of stable-and-boring, at the most mundane hilts of provocation. I mostly live along the lines of sarcasm-and-irony, as most writers or slightly-heralded-entrepreneurs might be. (Whether aware or outwardly expressed or not).
So, technicality aside, i do believe in the inherent power of rain.
Its turbulence. Its representing of changes. Its rapidly rolling down that signals fluidity. Its silence. Its changing temperature of air. Its changing the speed of wind. Its making me wear silly boots, hats and carry brolleys of size and shape.
(And in all its unendingly glorious metaphors.)
Rain, means replenishment, and success at turning tides, a beckoning of change, a state of being alive -with ions charged in the air meeting an electric proton on the ground and creating lightning.
When we collaborate with nature, it declares it a holiday. I used to love being stopped at a moment’s notice of tropical rain- that the weather could overturn a scheduled Math quiz, is seriously something that never occurred to me, as possible.
And if you lived in mostly-stable-weather all your lives, the Rain can be annoying.
