...and when it rains...

 It rained here today, a roguish rain that didn't want to pour but didn't want to merely drizzle and die!

It guffawed and gleamed and set in the wind to come swooshing behind my ears and sing in dulcet tones of every rain I'd lived through before and remembered.

Trivandrum. Around 1995

A trip to Veli beach. Gray sandy beach, a gray sky to match with. And an endless Arabian sea. Rain. In little soft drops, like the ending notes of music...a trace of zari at the skirt ends of pretty little running girls! Green and brown coconut trees swaying to the music of the wind...

Lonavala 1997. Train.

A long winding train. Playing hide and seek with caves. 'Taal' playing in my old green Walkman. Rain. Mountains that touched the sky providing a backdrop. Strangers-all of us in the bay- but sharing a common few seconds, staring out of the window at those gray clouds and mighty mountains and the lush green. Somewhere near Lonavala, when the chikkis came to haunt, there was a picture perfect moment. The image- still fresh in my mind.

Bombay. 1997.

Shopping for shoes near Matunga with an aunt. Braving the crowds, battling the slush. Drenched from head to toe. The howling winds freezing us to the marrow. And the first-and self-imposed last- of a high-heeled sandal!

July 2007. Delhi

India Gate. Long sticks with swirls of shocking-pink cotton candy stuck on them. Two sticks for me-one for each hand- to feed my greedy mouth. Eating in turns. Steaming biriyani, sitting on the lawns.

Rain...

One plastic ball. Football in the rain. Seniors. Juniors. Friends. Foes. In unison. My sandal comes off my feet- a new football for them. Funny scuffles to get them back on to my feet.

Photographs from beneath umbrellas- as if taking something from the rain in stealth. Happy faces.

Marudamalai, Coimbatore. 2007.

Hill top. Swirling skirts of women's sarees. Dupattas wanting to fly off in the wind. Family. Importantly, cousins!

Cloudy skies. Wrathful winds. A divine presence hovering about- that which I can't see or feel inside the sanctum sanctorum. I look up at the sky. Power. Might. Bhakthi.

A wind strong enough to lift us up and throw us into nothingness. A quick urge to let go of the little childish hand that grasps my hand to leave everything and dare the wind to whisk me away.

A cave. A sanctuary for a sage. A strange story. Visions of voodoo. Mysticism. Vermillion, ash and turmeric. Big round beady-black eyes. Fat red beads. Tongues red. Eerie.

Mild rain. Soothing. Calming. making me believe once again...

And a taxi ride home...

Okkiyam. 2007-08

A rickety green Madras local bus. Half past seven in the morning. Window seat. Endless Old Mahabalipuram road. Trees with airy needle-like leaves. People waking up from slumber. Gray blue skies. A sheet of rain. Skies that look like they hold within a deep secret.

Somewhere, humanity must have had a whisker of a chance at unraveling the deep mysteries of the universe that day. A beautiful house...and suddenly... the Okkiyam Lake. A faeryland. Druids and pixies and brownies morphing themselves into tall trees and forming a circlet of vigil around the lake...like a crown on the crest of the head. Such perfect beauty. Tears in my eyes.

My Balcony. 2008

Inky blue night. Some unworldly guests to the heavens above earth. The skies were decked up with a gloss unsurpassed by anything before. And suddenly, it rains. Feet propped up on the balcony sill. A plastic chair puffed up with pillows. Music in the ears. Loud singing-along session, tossing off all worldly cares and societal stares. Bliss. Freedom. Expression. Relief.

Yercaud. 2008

Nine in the night. Wild bison on the prowl. A brave taxi driver and a brave guide to escort one suddenly brave and reckless family of four. Mother.Father.Sister. Me.

Pitch darkness. Pagoda Point. Stones placed on one another like an Indian Stonehenge of sorts. Drizzle. Lightening. Thunder. Glimpses of a faraway temple. Light shimmering like jewels from the valley below. Scary. Humbling. Brave. Brilliant. A moment worth dying for.

My Balcony. Today.

A bowl of mango-banana fruit salad soaked in creamy milk and served chilled. Wondrous music played to suit the mood, by a kindred spirited sister. Rain falling...pattering...pelting...and pouring!!!

On my eyes... on my cheek...on the bridge of my beaky nose...caressing...teasing...taunting...playing...

Wind howling around. Reminding me of every rainy day I've lived through...