[The beauty of nature's glower]
However --nothing can take away from me my love for rains. Not the bad roads, maddening muggy evenings with power outages and a million mutinies, as the ever-acerbic Naipaul calls us. The sound of rain on trees, lampposts and lushes across the sidewalks continue to fascinate me. I try to make some sense out of the gentle pummeling of silvery driblets on my car-pane. Upon streams. On dark evenings. I love the hurriedness about it. People trying to run for cover. How it – rains -- bring to life, the bleakest of hopes. I think anyone who says sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain.
[Rain through the pane]
The 19th century American poet Henry Longfellow says the best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain. It is when the fleecy clouds can hold it no more. The weary earth drinks the drizzle. Rivers lap the rains. Old wells in the countryside stock the reserve. Flowers nod. Gazelles hop. Birds break into a song. Peaches blush. A little rain, I think, is an elixir. Into each life some rain must fall, Longfellow must agree in his mossy grave. Rain never disappoints. It rains on the dead, as much as on the un-dead. The unqueer and queer alike.
God, I may drift. I need to end it now.
Happy rains
Samy
11 comments:
oh, I loved that.
Leeila
You are are absolute romantic. A modern wordsworth.
Keep blogging
I haven't come across such writing in a long time. You are poetic, a story-teller and analyst, all mixed.
good to read you. bookmarked you.
Pallavi, 20, T.nagar Chennai
wow -- u rock boss. amazing vocab, usage.
Suhrit
You are so good at describing some of the most indescribable things in the world. I would be stumped if someone asked me to write on rain considering I am the assistant editor of my society's literary journal.
an amazing amazing blog.
Allen
I felt lost for 5 complete minutes. You write jolly well.
Qasia Jehangir
Dubai
A little rain will fill The lily's cup which hardly moists the field. Your poetic, personal pieces are far too good.
Barry
I like this poem by Shelley...
Will like to share it with you:
I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.
Natalie
There is a poetic feel and a journalists feel to your write-up.
Good wk.
Keep writing.
R
woooooow. Sam, too good.
hehe, you are cool
Into eAch Life Some rAin musT faLL... --> I loved this sentence :)
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