Outside, the rain pours heavily…
I remember a childhood filled with the joy of playing in the downpour.
Like all the children of that time, I too floated paper boats in the water that pooled in the courtyard. I’ve experienced lightning flashes like lamps lit by someone in the dark, gloomy lanes.
I’ve grown up getting drenched and chilled in the rain, sometimes falling sick, sometimes recovering.
The rain has always spread and poured, filling my mind. I remember my father holding me and my brother close during a thunderstorm that felt like the world was about to explode. That protective embrace still gives me inner strength today.
My mother, like an umbrella, is always there, ensuring her son doesn’t get wet in the rain. In the journey of life, rain is often a comforting touch, often a source of unease.
Mini and I have shared countless rains together.
As love, as resentment, as complaint; melting and merging, quarreling and forgiving, the beauty of the rain that fills us, pouring into each other.
Scooter rides with the kids wrapped in raincoats…Racing against the rain clouds to reach home before the laundry gets wet again, sometimes winning, sometimes losing and getting soddened. Riding the scooter in the heavy rain with a bundle of “wooden reapers” hoping to build a rain shelter, a home…
This is the journey of life.
The showers of friendship that fill my heart are always a wonder… They keep pouring, endlessly. Sometimes the rain cools me to the core, other times it burns like fire.
On the path of life, I continue my journey, sometimes wet thoroughly, sometimes dry. The paper boat I floated, sways and sways in the heavy rain, moving forward… As the rain pours into me and I pour into the rain…
Within me, there’s the joy of the rain.
English Translation :Krishnanunni H M (My Son)