…And it rained!
I don’t know what it is about dark clouds, that builds a song within my heart. I feel lighter. Happier. Like the world will suddenly be a better place to live in with the advent of these heavenly showers. Is it to do with my name? Which means clouds? Or the fact that I was born in November – a month where it usually doesn’t rain in Mumbai, but the rain gods chose to celebrate my arrival… I know not. But, when it rains, I become happy.
When I look back, I can think of so many memories surrounding the rain. And since it is a world that loves life lessons and #hacks, let me see if I can find one for each.
One of my earliest memories of the rain is when I was in school. We had a beautiful terrace and one fine evening I remember coming back from school, throwing my bag, and simply dancing in the rain like there was no tomorrow. My building was surrounded by many other buildings, and I saw a lot of people stare at me – wondering who this crazy girl was, screaming, shouting and dancing in the rains. And all alone.
That day – I experientially realized the Truth in the words, “Dance like no one is watching!” I could not just “see” but “feel” eyes on me – and some were people I knew from the neighboring building. Shyness did creep in but was shown its way out by the pure bliss I was experiencing. Thank God, I didn’t stop – because the feeling just kept on going and eventually everyone moved on with their work. If I had stopped for the eyes that watched or changed my dance – I would have denied myself the sheer depth of the experience. I would have been left feeling incomplete – and not deeply cleansed, purified and complete that I know I did that day.
The next memory of rain that comes to my mind is when a huge gang of us had gone for a one-day spiritual retreat. We were near a lakeside, the mood was high, and everyone was freaking out. Suddenly it started raining and it added to the euphoria. Some people started playing football while others watched. Eventually, all of us were on the field – either kicking the ball, or wet mud on each other, or rolling laughing.
Bliss grows when shared, I realized. It is contagious, much like flu. When one person is truly exuding happiness, it quickly gets caught on by others and multiplies. I sometimes feel the only way a country can grow is not by measuring its infrastructure or GDP, but by working on the happiness quotient. By ensuring more and more people become happy, a natural feeling of well-being, of abundance, even of brotherhood takes over. Think about it: A happy person is less likely to pick up a fight, or display anti-social behavior or acts, as compared to a mentally distressed one.
Another strong memory of the rains is that of 26 July, 2005. If you google it, you will see images and videos that will make your heart sink. Must – our city nearly sank. What began as simple, happy showers grew into a nasty storm lasting for hours. Roads looked like rivers, buildings collapsed and submerged, electricity gave way and it was just chaos all over. Mumbai the city that never stops, literally came down its knees, sighed, and gave way to the torrential rain.
I was watching the rains, first time with a tinge of worry – which then became full fledged fear when my father was unreachable on his phone for hours. He had gone for work to an area that had been worst hit by flash floods. He had left at nine in the morning and should have been home by the usual five. But no sign of him till six, seven, eight, nine.
My heart was in my mouth, and I remember standing at my balcony, watching for every movement of a taxi – hoping against hope that papa would come home. When the clock finally struck eleven and it was clear papa wasn’t coming home, I started feeling a panic rise within me… until I saw my mom. She was fluffing her cushions, folding her sheets, and getting ready for sleep like nothing had happened. I asked her, “Mummy, aren’t you worried?” She said something that stayed with me, forever. She replied, “If something had gone wrong with papa, I would have felt it within. He is just stuck somewhere, and his phone is probably not working. He will come back tomorrow!” With that the lady fell asleep.
I was stumped. How could she! As I kept watching the rain thundering relentlessly, I wondered where my father was and in what situation. The news, whenever the electricity did work was giving out the growing numbers of death, of injuries – it was mayhem. Truth be told, I barely slept and kept watching my mothers peaceful form wondering if she was crazy.
The next morning mom woke up, made breakfast – and went about the morning cooly. I could not understand if she was pretending to ease us, or she really was this relaxed having had no contact with her husband for close to 24 hours. And then the phone rang. It was my dad! I had never felt happier hearing his voice! He shared, “I had to swim four hours – and finally I found some place to sit the night out on. All around me bodies, rats, and garbage were swirling… but I knew I had a wife and two children who love me like crazy and this kept me warm and secure. I have finally found a place to call you from, and some kind shopkeeper is giving tea and snacks to everyone, so I just ate something after nearly eighteen hours. I will reach home in another hour – as I may have to walk it until I find some form of vehicle!”
I just remember crying. My little heart could not understand much – but I felt his faith, I felt moms deepest love and trust in her love, and I felt myself growing in admiration to this man and woman who could somehow communicate and stay connected without any technology. I promised myself to love like that and feel that way with my man. Today twenty years later, I can say, I have certainly strived and grown.
Rain. It always does something to me. I don’t know why, or how, but it finds its way to the deepest chasm of my soul and shifts something. Do you have a rain story too?