Rains through Philosopher's eyes.

     Rains.

        

          Just another Sunday morning it is. The serene atmosphere, the tranquility in the air and the calm and composed surrounding clearly depicts the “no hurries and no worries” attitude. It is certainly a blissful day for the people who are toiling out day in day out, through out the week.

         Sunday for the working class is like a glass full of water to a thirsty person lost in a never-ending desert. However, there is something that is adding more specialties to this Sunday… It’s raining out there!

         Zillions of poets and writers have already written innumerable prose and poems related to rains and its beauty in fact I can vouch on it that every single day of monsoon remarks millions of amateur writers trying to compose something meaningful and philosophical about rains. So, while writing this article I get a sense of competitiveness perhaps responsibility to write something different. Something unique.

    Rains…

    For some people its just another reason for exasperation and irateness, for some, it’s an explicit beauty and for some it’s just a season which passes by. Rains imply different meanings to different perceptions, but for someone like me, it is like an old wine which engulfs you slowly but steadily. When its tepidity gradually gets familiar to your throat, you eventually fall in love with the bitterness and get indulged hedonistically.

 “ You can’t understand the flamboyance and grace of incessantly pouring rains unless you watch it through the philosopher’s eyes”

     Few days ago I'd visited my maternal uncle’s house to meet my sweet little cousin who had recently completed two years of her age. While on my way, from my place to their house, I had to face several traffic jams and a bumpy drive, which made me cover a distance of 10 km. in three long hours. All because of the heavy rains in the city. By the time I reached, all the excitement faded away and was replaced by irritation and fatigue from the journey. However this irritation prevailed no longer after meeting my sister or may be, after meeting the rains again!

       I gently pushed open the door of her room only to find her standing at the balcony and staring pointlessly at the pouring rains. Few minutes later my aunt who had already noticed the tinge of irritation on my face, which was emblazoned by the outrageous journey, whispered in my ears, “ She loves seeing rains, why don’t you try it, you’ll feel better”.

       

        Her fingers were clenched to the grills bordering the edges of balcony walls. The two years old seemed to be in deepest of thought while looking at the rains with her startling eyes. Her beaming face was evidently portraying the gust of bliss and satisfaction that the scenery gave her. At that point of time, I was lost in the amazement of the moment and just marvelled at it. I observed her for few minutes and eventually found myself already submerged in the aura that was generated by that mesmerising moment.

        Through the child I was somehow connected to the serenity of the ruthlessly falling rains. I could find, rains were reflecting the same charm and innocence that the sweet little two years old possessed. For her it was just like, seeing someone similar to her in the form of rains. All my irritation, weariness and anger from the tiring journey was suddenly vanished, rather I felt more peppy and full of life.

That’s what rains do to you!

     This feeling cannot be completely justified in words. You yourself have to experience it, as I did. I don’t know whether you would or wouldn’t foster the same bond with the rains. But all I can say is that, my return journey was also full of traffic jams accompanied by a bumpy drive, but on my way I managed to peek out of my car windows just to watch the rains through Philosopher’s eyes, which certainly made my journey pleasurable.