Matchbox Rains

At 2 am, there is precious little anyone can do apart from the obvious. Some lucky ones keep it going till that long...boy I envy them. But then in the event of such pleasures escaping my life totally, there is only one thing I am supposed to do that late in the night. But then I was not.

I was twelve when I realised that the only thing good about the rains is that you can sit on the window sil of our old house and watch the rain with a cup of tea and some hot 'pakodas'. Rains have always been bad for me because it falls when I have to go out to play. "Rain Rain Go away, Little Johnny wants to play" I would wail ! My nursery teacher never meant her students to sing it that way. Anyway.

So, the red of the night shone sombre and I fought off my fear to look through. I found a spec of the light particle shining, not through, but up and over. The sky's stretch marks were quite unlike humans'.... duh ! The light spread and it seemed the drops were going to form a swing.... a swing on which swayed the little child clouds... laughing and frolicking around the mother clouds.

I rubbed my eyes again in disbelief. How can this be beautiful and so soothing? How can watching the pitter-patter of the rains from inside the confines of the house be so enthralling and that too at night. Isn't night supposed to be dark? Has God missed a trick here or has she/he slept off in the night, just as our watchman Mr. Gorkha. The matchbox like appartments in the city forbid any thoughts that you might harbour of an expansive view of anything for that matter. One balcony opens smack into the bedroom window of the opposite building. Now dimwits like me are so scared of being a vouyers, that we refrain from even looking outside our balconies, lest I accidently catch a couple opposite my building in that act. Oh ya, I still am living in my teen fantasy of every boy, that the only thing that a couple does when they go inside a bedroom is..well, ummm...eeerrr.. you know ( see, i can't even type the damn word )

But at this time of the night or rather morning, I am unafraid. I look out and fall in love with the idea of watching rains from my window sil again after so many years. Well, after so many years of walking in the rains, there is nothing much left to do other than finding a shelter and watching it pour. It feels great that at least the sky cries in a refreshing manner. ....