Nov 17, 2013

I can hear the rain falling on to the interlocked floor in front of the house. Soft pitter patter.

At the corner of the  porch lies a small bend pipe which brings in water from the top terrace. The water drips down. The leaves of the mango tree are glistening with rain drops. Rain drops stay at the tip of every strand of the pinnate coconut leaf.

The electric cables pass through pole to pole, street to street , house to house in Kerala. Single drops stand on to the cables for a little while, then falls on to the ground, absorbed by the mud below. Dust we become.

The coastal sand absorbs in the water from heaven with all its glory, turns a shade of deep brown. Rain is a blessing.

Occasionally , a youngster zooms past the house on his bike enjoying the rain lashing. Kids run away from the watchful eyes of their mother, just to enjoy this divine miracle falling on to their tiny hands.

Kids walk in the rain with their hand outstretched.  If allowed, they would any day full drench in the rain. Adults walk under the  comfort of the umbrellas. To enjoy the  moment, we need to learn from the children.

The dragonflies which filled the field of tapioca in the morning, is gone now. Where do they go when it rains?

Slowly, the sky clears. Sunlight can be seen seeping through the clouds. The interlocked floors look clear and shiny. Silent calm around. Wet mud. Everything looks rejuvenated.

Maybe, occasionally,  we need a rain to clear up our vision.