On A Rainy Night

Not a warning. Not a sign. Not even the slightest of clues. And the heavens opened up to unleash one of the greatest creations known to mankind. Rain! Oh what a wonderful thing it is. Unpredictable in its nature, indomitable in its spirit and unrelenting in its power, it can tear your world to pieces just as easily as it can mend a broken heart. The sound of those tiny droplets of water crashing against the earth is music to the ears for some and misery to some others. It is an expression of passion and piety for some and pain and evil for some others. It is selfless when it gives and sinister when it takes away. Some hide in shelters when it arrives and yet, others feel at home even in all its fury. 

He stood there without a care for the world, in awe of the nature, the spirit and the power of the rain. Soaked to the last piece of clothing on his body, dripping from head to toe, he stood there, still as a rock, listening to the deafening sound of the rain, feeling the water splashing across his face. That familiar sinking of the heart, that standing of his hair on its end, those goose bumps on his arms and legs, that familiar chill running down his spine, the oodles of energy pulsating within his body, it all came back to him and he felt alive once again. And suddenly there was a momentary emptiness where his heart should be. It was as if his heart had just popped out of his chest, acquired a pair of wings and scurried away to find its place within that one person who had come into his world, conquered his heart and refused to leave. 

He couldn't help but wonder how; the same rain had just a year before brought him such pain and solitude. And here it was again filling in him Hope - for the road ahead, as long and narrow and winding as it may be; Love - to give selflessly, welcome or not; and Strength - to hold his own and carry on, never mind the  consequences. It was this duality of the rain that fascinated him the most. What could bring happiness and cheer at one time could just as easily leave incredible pain and solitude. And it never ceased to amaze him.

But on this day, the pouring rain brought to him images of her. She was a special girl, that one. Childlike in her enthusiasm for life, fiercely independent, vociferous in her arguments, she was a high roller, much like the rain itself but for one striking contrast. She was not as benevolent and as uncaring as the rain when bestowing her love. And yet her wavy hair, her innocent smile, her adamance over trivial things, her honesty and her in your face blunt and frank opinions were all he could think of. She had come into his life quite unexpectedly but lingered on and eventually took control of it.

He stood there without a care for the world, still as a rock, soaking in every bit of one of the greatest creations known to man. Rain! Oh what a wonderful thing it is, giving rise to hopes unfulfilled, aspirations unconquered, dreams to be made true, love to be realized and life to be lived. Rain! Oh what a wonderful thing it is, intriguing, inspiring, undulating. Rain! Oh what a wonderful thing it is, caring but crushing, giving but stealing, rising but falling. Rain! Oh what a wonderful thing it is.