Rain, Oh Beloved Rain.................

I know most people like rainy nights so that they could curl up and sleep. I on the contrary, feel more alive when it rains. I like to stay up and listen to the rain. Rain is fascinating, it has a music of its own. I like the sound of the rain on the roof, I like to hear it falling down on the leaves of the tress outside. I love the fluttering curtains in the loud blast of wind that somehow manage to get in through the windows. I love how the rain manages to block all sound out and invade your ears, almost forcefully with its powerful and earthy presence. I love how it would rush up on you and slowly wither away gently, like a wilting flower, yet with the promise to bloom again.

I love the rumbling thunder, the way it sometimes rattles the doors and windows, making the glass tinkle in that pretty way. I like the electric flashes of light from the heavens that appear and disappear again like a dream suddenly and unexpectedly just like it came. I like how after a flash of light you always expect a loud rumble from up above and how sometimes it never comes. I like the unpredictability of it all. Sometimes you just get a little too tired of the predictable formality of the world.  

I like it how rain manages to intensify some smells while drowning out others. For me, rain smells clean, it smells of new unpolished wood, yet to see the likes of varnish and other synthetic things. It smells pure and tranquil like a secluded world, still untouched by vulgarities of the outside. I have never smelt the "smell of wet earth" as many have described it. The closest I've ever felt of it is a mixture of trampled grass and rotting kitchen waste that faintly smelled of puss that oozes out of infested wounds and I cannot say that I like it very much. 

Another thing I love is hot tea or coffee on a rainy day and a big mug of it at that, no fooling around about the quantity of it. I love the almost scalding feel of it in my hands, I love its liquid warmth as it travels down the throat and radiates its warmth like a cosy blanket right across the skin. I simply love the smell of hot tea or coffee with the smell of the rain, mollycoddling in its fumes in an armchair, feet up just like I'm doing now. 

I also love the after-rain sounds. The never ending croaks of the frogs in the garden pond, the soft breathing, heaving sound of the trees, adjusting themselves after the downpour. I like the feel of the departing rain, its like a painful yet necessary act to preserve the beauty of the moment forever. That pain is beautiful, beautifully exquisite. 

I suppose I'm in a never ending courtship with the rain. And unlike any mortal relationship, the romance will never fizzle out.