It’s raining. A sheer misty curtain made of tiny droplets stands between my window and the world. If I look hard enough, I can almost see past the ugly buildings and the far-away hills into the past in a different city, where you and I walked together in the rain, refusing to take a bus and trying to shelter under my umbrella. Walking into class, late and drenched, and hoping no one would comment. Rushing as soon as class was over to the canteen for tea and samosa. Sitting in the canteen with a group of people, talking loudly over the water hitting down on the tin roof, sitting near the end of the un-walled canteen so that gusts of wind blew water all over us.

raindropThe rain felt different that year. Before, rain had brought dirty clothes and laundry refusing to dry. It had meant upset schedules and frequent colds and frayed tempers. Never had it meant this music that lifted our hearts, this excitement that shook our bodies.

We rarely got a chance to be alone. Sometimes, we would steal a kiss in your room, if your roommate was away. But mostly, we sought privacy in our walks in the rain, when no one would stand and stare at us, when we could talk of all we thought of.

Do you remember the time we danced in the rain? It was the first shower after a searing summer. It was a Sunday evening and we were all sitting in the lawn of the college grounds. We were preparing for the contests that started the next day. You and I were practising for the debate. A group behind us was singing.

The clouds took just a few minutes to assemble, and the rain pelted down without further warning. All of us were too shocked to move to the shelter of the verandah. We just sat there, the rain feeling our bodies. And then you got up and started to dance. I laughed, and you pulled me up by the hand to dance with you. Someone turned on some music. And we all danced till the rain stopped.

I was hoarse for the debate the next day, and I blamed you that we lost.

I lost more than that contest. I have never danced in the rain since.

I have lost you too. You are a near-stranger now, a friend-who-was. You will be polite, I’m sure, if we meet again.

But why should I lose the rain? I will go up now, to the terrace, and let it touch me again.

8 Replies to “Rains”

  1. Wow! what a touching story… Its true some moments remain unforgetable, but the beauty is to move on in life and yet cherish those moments fondly.

  2. WOW…

    Rain brings back a flood of emotions. I always associate with the rain with mixed feelings. Actually it is a hate – hate relationship. I hate it when it rains. I hate it when it doesnt.
    Your article just reminded me that it has been ages since I soaked myself in the rain. I think i will just do it one of these days

  3. Thank you, all. I’m glad you like it. It’s a divine feeling, getting wet in the rain, isn’t it? (Unless you’re stuck in the rain without a shelter – that isn’t fun at all.)
    .-= Unmana´s last blog ..Lost =-.

  4. While it is raining outside and i was beginning to get lost in my thoughts your blog made the drift faster..You took me back to my college days too. The article is beautifully written. Let me share it with someone i shared many such rainy days with 🙂

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