Rainy days can be either of the two extremes: the perfect soul-cleansing, hiding under the blanket, curled up with a hot drink and a good book kind of days, or torn sandal, sopping wet bag, non-drying (see-through) clothes, the why is this happening to me?! kind of days.
For me, the most memorable are the first kind. I’ll never forget a few instances, but in case someday I do forget, here are a few snippets to help jog my memory.
This isn’t one incident, but a collection of rainy days throughout my childhood. My sister and I held the belief that music brought rain, and the louder you sang, the harder it rained. And so, I remember standing in the balcony singing our lungs out as the mere drizzle turned into a pounding rainfall with the rhythm of our songs.
This was after my first… well, not exactly heartbreak, but let’s just say it wasn’t a good day to be me. Things turned around as morning rolled by, though, as the rain came pouring down with no signs of stopping. We dashed up to the roof with an umbrella – because, of course we’d need an umbrella to get wet in the rain! – and jumped around in the ankle-deep water with not a care in the world.
This is etched in my memories for no particular reason, to be honest. It’s simply one of those days a friend and I went out for lunch to a restaurant she liked, there was a light drizzle, and I dropped her off at some point in the road between the restaurant and her place. It was a very normal day; perhaps the beginning of normalcy as I’d never known before.
This one’s at the same restaurant as the one above, but with very different company. We had foreign guests visit our lab, and as we were the newest members of the lab, we were given the opportunity to show them around. Everyone met up at this restaurant for dinner, and it started raining so hard that somehow, somewhere, a power-line actually burst and we lost electricity for a couple of minutes! This still makes me smile. I remember the three of us wistfully wishing we were out in the rain – or was it just us two? – while cracking up at jokes our professors made to ease us into our first outside-the-university experience with the lab.
This, the last entry, is the most powerful one. It’s also the most cinematic by far. It was the last week of undergraduate classes, the end of a sleepless, exam-filled, draining few months. We prayed and prayed to the rain, and our prayers were answered. This brings tears to my eyes, that’s how powerful it was. The rain washed away the fatigue and rejuvenated us. There was also a shit-ton of hail that turned the green fields white as far as we could see, if anyone wants some thrill thrown into this pity-party!
All in all, monsoon madness is hands down better than spring freshness, summer adventures, or winter wonderlands.