Baarish.
The event that happens when the man in the sky lets his bathtub run over, as one particularly creative 7 year old put it.
I can't remember the last time I enjoyed it.
I used to love it, but then I grew up. I used to splash in every puddle, waltz through every falling drop. Now I just look at it through a window, watching the rivulets it makes on the glass. Ever changing tendrils of gloominess.
Frankly, I'm surprised at how this happens. How do so many things that could make us happy just stop having that power once we manage a few grey hair on our scalp? (Even I have a couple that I don't tell people about.)
I can't remember a specific moment when I just got up one day, looked out the window and decided that the rain makes me feel dull. It went from a stage to dancing and singing in the rain, collecting hailstones, to not being allowed in the rain lest I catch a cold, to deciding I was better off inside, what with all the pollutants mixed in with the rain. You can try that too. Take a pH paper from your friend who still has access to a chem lab, and place it in a puddle outside. Note your readings. Makes even you think twice about going out without an umbrella, no?
The drains overflow, drawing attention to the outstanding care taken by our Municipal Corporation, new potholes on the road greet us like old acquaintances after every heavy shower. The number of accidents on our roads go up by 23%. Rain at the right time of the year is necessary, you say. Well, off-season rains ruined a hundred thousand tonnes of good grain in the northern states this year.
What reasons did we have to love it in the first place?
Well, I'm watching three little kids jump in the puddles outside my window as I write this. They seem blissfully happy to me, and I doubt reading my rant against these wet showers would change that for them. What then? I grew out of enjoying rain? Is the child inside me, that I cherish so much, actually gone? (If you're gonna make fat jokes, don't. I'm fat, cherished child inside me, ha bloody ha.)
Will I never again enjoy the things that I loved as a kid? My G.I. Joes, my cartons of Happy Meal toys? Am I on the road to becoming an 'Uncle', who's akin to the non-comical green creature in Dr. Seuss' "How the Grinch stole Christmas" ? Am I irreversibly committed to complicating my life, listening to opinions, and puckering my lips to ass-kiss my to-be bosses? Is the life that's laid out in front of me full of grocery shopping, standing in queues, and using after-shave?
In short:
Well, I'm not okay with that. I may be all of 19-going-on-20, but I'm not exactly known for acting my age. I can still try to be as carefree as I was when I was younger, jumping about in the mud like that 'Daag acche hai' chap. I want to feel happy again. Carefree, joyful. Ignorant and blissful.
There are going to be 4 kids jumping in that puddle soon. :)
Edit: It was fine till the jumping part, though the kids did react weirdly to a guy double the age joining them, that too half dressed. I think that I may be one of the reasons that within a few minutes their solicitous mother, Mrs. Kapoor, called out to them. Can't blame her too much.
Walking back to my house, I had to pass over the mud that the construction workers had kept there, only to have my right foot slide into deep muck all the way till mid calf.
I hate the rain again.
The event that happens when the man in the sky lets his bathtub run over, as one particularly creative 7 year old put it.
I can't remember the last time I enjoyed it.
I used to love it, but then I grew up. I used to splash in every puddle, waltz through every falling drop. Now I just look at it through a window, watching the rivulets it makes on the glass. Ever changing tendrils of gloominess.
Frankly, I'm surprised at how this happens. How do so many things that could make us happy just stop having that power once we manage a few grey hair on our scalp? (Even I have a couple that I don't tell people about.)
I can't remember a specific moment when I just got up one day, looked out the window and decided that the rain makes me feel dull. It went from a stage to dancing and singing in the rain, collecting hailstones, to not being allowed in the rain lest I catch a cold, to deciding I was better off inside, what with all the pollutants mixed in with the rain. You can try that too. Take a pH paper from your friend who still has access to a chem lab, and place it in a puddle outside. Note your readings. Makes even you think twice about going out without an umbrella, no?
The drains overflow, drawing attention to the outstanding care taken by our Municipal Corporation, new potholes on the road greet us like old acquaintances after every heavy shower. The number of accidents on our roads go up by 23%. Rain at the right time of the year is necessary, you say. Well, off-season rains ruined a hundred thousand tonnes of good grain in the northern states this year.
What reasons did we have to love it in the first place?
Well, I'm watching three little kids jump in the puddles outside my window as I write this. They seem blissfully happy to me, and I doubt reading my rant against these wet showers would change that for them. What then? I grew out of enjoying rain? Is the child inside me, that I cherish so much, actually gone? (If you're gonna make fat jokes, don't. I'm fat, cherished child inside me, ha bloody ha.)
Will I never again enjoy the things that I loved as a kid? My G.I. Joes, my cartons of Happy Meal toys? Am I on the road to becoming an 'Uncle', who's akin to the non-comical green creature in Dr. Seuss' "How the Grinch stole Christmas" ? Am I irreversibly committed to complicating my life, listening to opinions, and puckering my lips to ass-kiss my to-be bosses? Is the life that's laid out in front of me full of grocery shopping, standing in queues, and using after-shave?
In short:
Well, I'm not okay with that. I may be all of 19-going-on-20, but I'm not exactly known for acting my age. I can still try to be as carefree as I was when I was younger, jumping about in the mud like that 'Daag acche hai' chap. I want to feel happy again. Carefree, joyful. Ignorant and blissful.
There are going to be 4 kids jumping in that puddle soon. :)
Edit: It was fine till the jumping part, though the kids did react weirdly to a guy double the age joining them, that too half dressed. I think that I may be one of the reasons that within a few minutes their solicitous mother, Mrs. Kapoor, called out to them. Can't blame her too much.
Walking back to my house, I had to pass over the mud that the construction workers had kept there, only to have my right foot slide into deep muck all the way till mid calf.
I hate the rain again.
As a kid, I remember, I despised Rain, mostly because it ruined my chance of playing outside and while going to school, made me carry a raincoat or an umbrella in addition to my satchel and water bottle, which I forgot to bring back almost all the time and later got scolded for it.
ReplyDeleteBut as I started getting older, I started liking Rain, mainly because of the Romanticism associated with it. I started taking interest in Photography and Writing and Rains were a perfect inspiration for me. Also, as a teenager, Love was always in the Air (apart from being on my Mp3 Player) which made Rains very interesting to me.
And as of today, well, Guwahati is burning hot without any downpour in past one week, so,
I hated it when you said that you hate Rains. >:(
May my hate of rains send them away from me and towards guwahati, leaving just the right amount here, so that we both may bask in the coolness they bring. :P
ReplyDeleteI don't really 'hate' hate rain. I find it mysteriously melancholy, which makes me love it when I'm in a sombre mood. I love the sound the raindrops make when they fall, the pitter-patter almost as soothing as white-noise.
I just don't find it as enjoyable to get wet in the rain as I used to.