I know I hated rain so much as a child, especially when I had to run after cows in the forests with a rudimentary plastic raincoat over the head and back. They would often take advantage of the weather and sneak into neighbours’ crop fields. I cursed both rain and the animals I was herding equally.
But this morning, as I sat over my window listening to the drizzling sounds of rain and kissing the cool and fresh breeze the rain had brought with it, I feel so sorry that I cursed it when I was a little boy. Although I cannot see the physical world today, I can feel the freshness and beauty of nature around me and I can sense how flowers and plants rejoice when it rains. I walked out to the veranda of my house where the flower plants my wife and her sister have nurtured were enjoying the rain too. I touched the tender petals and leaves of all the flowers and I could sense a unique beauty in each plant. They seemed in absolute peace and harmony: no worries, no stress, no fear and hatred, yet they have a life and purpose.
The rhythmic pitter-patter sounds of raindrops on the roof of my house take me back to my village, back to my cheerful childhood. The hardships I faced in the rain as a child now brings immense joy when I just look back. I wish if I had the magical power to wind back the time and relive those moments. The green forests around my village, the green maize fields and green paddy fields still linger afresh in my mind and when it rains, they seem to become even more green. I love rain so much because it drifts me away into the deeper world of spirituality and relieves me of any tension or stress. Like a caring mother, it lulls me to sleep.
Today, the birds chirping and singing, blended with the drizzling sounds of rain has brought me a strange nostalgic feeling and I wish if I could be back in my village with all the power to see the beauty of nature with my own eyes, as in my childhood.