I've now started to become someone who spends more time writing what I would like to do rather than what I actually say and do. There are times when I think I’m more matured than my age, but there are times when I just glide in my reveries.
I was always hemmed in by silence, and caroused in it. For me, silence was and is, never deafening. With the silence emanated voluminous thoughts.
I always had a penchant for Rains. Oh how virile it was! The droplets, ever so small, still able to wash away all the pains from the heart… cool enough to quench the hot fire of our souls..
I was committed to it from a very young age. One and all who knew me always teased about my addiction to it! They knew that when I make a commitment, I stick to it like glue. When I was a child, it would sneak in through the windows, would kiss my nose tips which would be protruding out through the panes. Sometimes I stick my tongue out and savour it. In my adolescence, it used to come impromptu, clasp me from behind, saturating, oblivious of the inquisitive onlookers. There were never any constraints. When it came, I used to go out with it, hand in hand. I’ve always welcomed it with a deep yearning. Sometimes it came with such a fury and hunger and took me in one single sweep. It fell on me rhythmically, each in anticipation of the next, creating a beautiful symphony.
Every now and then rains kiss me at nights while the world is in slumber. It would venture out from its hidey-hole, hisses through the open windows and wakes me up. It embraces me with its robust arms, enveloping me with soft sweet kisses. It was like a kiss on a dry parched piece of earth. It whispers sweetly in my ears as it trickles down… melting against my skin. I would close my eyes and relish the drops... as it strips me… feels me… deflowers me… And then, the distant rumblings! I dare not open my eyes, or else the dream might shatter… that I was alone with my memories.
Does rain have any smell? Does it smell of a man's aftershave? A cologne? A cigarette?
I was always hemmed in by silence, and caroused in it. For me, silence was and is, never deafening. With the silence emanated voluminous thoughts.
I always had a penchant for Rains. Oh how virile it was! The droplets, ever so small, still able to wash away all the pains from the heart… cool enough to quench the hot fire of our souls..
I was committed to it from a very young age. One and all who knew me always teased about my addiction to it! They knew that when I make a commitment, I stick to it like glue. When I was a child, it would sneak in through the windows, would kiss my nose tips which would be protruding out through the panes. Sometimes I stick my tongue out and savour it. In my adolescence, it used to come impromptu, clasp me from behind, saturating, oblivious of the inquisitive onlookers. There were never any constraints. When it came, I used to go out with it, hand in hand. I’ve always welcomed it with a deep yearning. Sometimes it came with such a fury and hunger and took me in one single sweep. It fell on me rhythmically, each in anticipation of the next, creating a beautiful symphony.
Every now and then rains kiss me at nights while the world is in slumber. It would venture out from its hidey-hole, hisses through the open windows and wakes me up. It embraces me with its robust arms, enveloping me with soft sweet kisses. It was like a kiss on a dry parched piece of earth. It whispers sweetly in my ears as it trickles down… melting against my skin. I would close my eyes and relish the drops... as it strips me… feels me… deflowers me… And then, the distant rumblings! I dare not open my eyes, or else the dream might shatter… that I was alone with my memories.
Does rain have any smell? Does it smell of a man's aftershave? A cologne? A cigarette?
Do I love anything more than a long walk in the rain?
4 comments:
ns! Ahaaaaaaaaaaa. I too love it. Never have had enough of it. During my college days, I will push off to marina beach, when ever a cyclone induced rain hits Madras. Nothing more exhilarating then getting drenched in rains.
As for walks, yes. They are fun. But try biking some time. last week, when my daughter was here, I took her rain biking. She was thrilled.
Read the book 'Where the rain is born'?
Highly recommended especially a fellow rain-lover!
One generous to a fault could only write like this.
A gripping read! Lyrical descriptions! Memory joggs back... The blossoms were kissed by soft rain....
(A proof reader snails off due to redundancy!)
There is a nice song , "Listen to the falling rain ",by Jose Feliciano....a blind singer...that music will go well with your expressions in this blog.Try that out...
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