The simplicity of life in hindsight
Cometh the hour, cometh the rain!
A pale shade of grey enveloping the sky, the powerless sun blazing behind a stubborn array of clouds, and the sweet smell of raindrops hovering about in the air waiting to plummet toward earth; Oh don’t you love it when rain’s in the air?
To a land that has faced nothing but the wrath of the sun, to a land that has withered under its wrath for months together, it’s the light of a brand new day. The rain makes you believe that it can bring peace to a land that has only seen war, can spread love among people who have only lived in hate, can give hope where all hope seemed to be lost and can prompt the beginning of a mutiny in the midst of an oppression.
What happened to the days when we used to dance to bring in the rain? Those days seem like nothing more than fodder for 15 year old’s history class. Oh look where we’ve come.
Don’t you love it when the streets are flooded with water, when the kids dance merrily in the rain, when the plants glow, a glow that’s visible only to those who’s seek hope? Oh don’t you love it when it rains?
It might have lasted only an hour, it might have brought the glee in the eyes of beautiful kid only for an hour, it might have drenched the hapless pedestrians only for an hour, and it might have watered the plants only for an hour, but oh what an hour it was!
If only you were here, you would have known it was an hour worth living for. It’s an hour that has given me hope, an hour that has opened my eyes to the light at the end of the tunnel. Oh what an hour it was.
(My take on the rain that engulfed Chennai on the 6th of June 2011)