Monday, 29 July 2013

Rain Gift Of Water

Rain has no colour. Like black and white movies. The feel of rain have inspired creative works since time immemorial. And it is quite different from the feel of snow. Snow is exclusive, almost elitist. Rain is inclusive and like the salt of the earth, more grounded. It only snows in some parts of the world, but it rains nearly everywhere I know. Arguably snowing is more cinematic, and admittedly wondrous and grand. Yet rain has an audible dimension which makes it more immediate. My personal feelings of rain swing from comfortably warm and fuzzy to anxiously cold and wet. This very moment, I choose to focus on the good feelings of rain.

It provides a warm sense of security. Because rain is water and water is life. I see the reservoirs filling up, I see farmers rejoicing, I see the entire landscape meandering with shine and vigour. After a rain, there is also a clean and contented feeling because the rain has washed away dirt and waste.

Yet rain is not at all colourless. With light, we can see a rainbow. All cultures have used rain to tell or add to stories. While there are mishaps caused by rain, rain as a metaphor is invariably life enriching. There is torrential downpour which destroys, but mostly rain is revered because it is a necessary component of growth.

After thunder and lightning which can be intimidating, the sound of rain that follows is familiar, reassuring and almost tranquil. The rain this morning continued throughout the day. I am not complaining. This post seems to be about nothing; I have wanted to express how I feel about rain but never did until now. I chanced upon this poem, simply titled ‘Rain’, which reads like nothing, but then again it may mean something to you.

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