Achoo! *sniffle, grin* :))

Mother Dearest concluded that I either need to grow up or see a shrink. That was after spotting my dripping pile of water-logged cloths that I had stashed away in a corner of the laundry basket.

Ok, so I jumped in to a couple of puddles and decided to ditch the umbrella in the pouring rain a couple of blocks from home and enjoyed a bit of spinning around and dancing my way home, real psycho style in the rain, what's the big deal? Puddles are there to be jumped in, people are meant to get drenched and cloths are meant to be soiled, muddied and soaked.

Right?
Achoo!!! My respiratory system just might not agree with me there.

Anyways just stepped out of my wet cloths, had a nice warm bath and feeling quite cosy and warm inside. Except for the slight sniffling of course, but that too shall pass. I probably shouldn't have stepped out of the house today what with God having regular baths these days which requires emptying out the divine sewer systems, celestial bathroom-cleaning and emptying the heavenly buckets over poor mortal us and all. But then, I didn't want to invoke the rather formidable wrath of our dearly beloved librarian, that tiny little man with 64 horse power vocal chords, chameleon-like unpredictable mood swings and a temper that surpasses the most powerful of sand storms of the Sahara. Declaring war would not be a wise choice at the moment. What with Ban ki Moon's bespectacled eyes roving around these days and all.

As filthy as it is, Colombo is rather breath-taking in the rain. I watched fascinated from the dusty windows of a leaking bus as the rain fell, mist-like across the Kelani river, draping it in a shawl of the finest silk, giving it that flabbergasting blurred effect that covered ugly things. Like the slums. They were barely visible in the rain.

Maybe people like the rain because it blurs ugly things, the things that we don't really want to see. It washes the beggar people off the streets, it seemingly washes away the pollution, the garbage thrown here and there. Even the generally urine-stenching Town hall didn't smell so bad today. The people and the slums are separated by a sheet of falling water and you can no longer see the child licking the plate, dressed in rags, seated in a doorway.

Rain doesn't cleanse, as they say. It only masks things, temporarily washes things away. They have to reemerge some day, stinking, appalling and as putrid as ever.

Hell's roof must be leaking this rainy season, coz it sure seems like some of devil's puny spiteful creatures have escaped the dungeons and hit the surface this time around. And some of them just CANNOT get over the excitement  of being behind those hollow round things (which we refer to as the driving wheel) that control these  miraculous inventions called vehicles it seems. And some of them haven't seen the likeness of the female species in a VERY long time for they honk, flash their lights at the sight of a girl and purposely speed over puddles, spraying mud, water and God-knows-what else over the less fortunate pedestrians who are doomed to walk, balancing numerous bags and umbrella in hand, mouth and elbow, trying their best to keep dry. Well, they shall get born as swamp rats/ frogs/ insignificant filthy swamp things in their next birth. Karma exists you know. While these cowardly repulsive things chuckle maliciously inside their comfortable vehicles, I hope they vomit maggots out of their revolting mouths. That would send them screeching back to hell where they belong.

Anyways, it was fun wandering around in the rain, watching the rain soaked ravens preen their wings, feeling the drizzle of rain drop needles on the bare skin evoking goosebumps, jumping in to puddles, getting soaked, the feel of wet cloths clinging to the body as if craving for warmth, letting the hair blow in the wind only to be weighed down by the chilly drops of the melting sky back again. It was fun sitting in a bus while the rain enveloped and embraced everything outside, watching the rain water gushing down the streets, dancing and springing in glee across a rain-bathed window pane. However, it was not much fun coming home and sneezing the head (and everything else) off topped off by having to sit and listen to the preachings and chastising (with the consistency of a rubber band and everything stretchable) of a fuss pot of a Mother Dearest. "Still behaving like a child at 23 years old! People would have thought that you're mad!" she said. Ah who the hell cares. Moments like this come only once in a while and when it comes, the wise (wo)man seizes it by the neck and wrings out all (s)he can out of it when she can. Who the hell cares what anybody thought? Coz life's just too short to give a rat's ass :)

Achoo! *sniffle*  :)