I think of rains and I think of home. The rains back home were strong, lashing, intrusive, disruptive. They would come and drench your soul - whether you wanted or not. They were moody and temperamental as no one could predict how long they would stay. It would rain all night long sometimes, as we struggled our way through slush and mud, with umbrellas flying and breaking under the strain. We would reach home soaked to the skin, muddy and still happy - because somehow, the rain would have washed everything away, leaving us feeling new, fresher, younger and stronger. And the next day, there would be new life all around - those tiny greens, too small still to defend themselves, those white fuzzy mushrooms and those worms who would have suddenly found their way out. The rains would leave behind a strong smell of green that would overwhelm you whether you wanted or not. The rains too were perhaps like the people there - well meaning and passionate but at the same time, they never saw any boundaries. And you loved them for that ! For that free spirited living, for washing down on you and making you whole - irrespective of what you wanted.
I come here and wait all year long for the rains. It rains but the it doesn't feel the same. I know these clouds are not the same. These waters are not the same. They are too polite and restrained. The rains are languid, almost lazy - they come for such a short while and almost as if they wished they were elsewhere. Not for them the lashing and the night-long downpours. They come for just a little while, drizzle a little here and there and then they leave, as if running late for their next destination. You can count on them for never raining for more than a few hours. It rains only so much that you can sense that faint, sweet smell of wet mud. I long for the down pours, for the slush and mud and for the greenery thereafter - but the rains here are also different. Perhaps the rains learn from the people or maybe it is the other way around. But like people, once you get used to a certain kind of rain, the rest will never make you happy.
