When things are about to change, it comes like the rains.
First it thunders. Then starts to drizzle. Slowly, the showers catch up, and then it pours heartfuls. Once the cloudy pockets are emptied, it’s all calm and quiet. Sure there’s wheels splashing muddy waters. Of course, there’s muck and damp for some time. But soon that dries out too. And then there’s just beauty all around. Yeah, pretty much like that. That’s how it all started.
The first thunders came two years ago.
Well, the black clouds had started to gather many years before that. Then it thundered. A few times. And it started to drizzle and soon it was pouring. That’s when I stepped out. With a book to keep me company, and words weighing on the shoulders. To feel those showers promising bliss. I found a shelter in the rain and watched the unfolding from a distance. It felt novice but nice. Then came the anxieties – what if the deluge caused a flood that drowned everything.
The night was growing scary. But growing stronger wasn’t a choice.
The roof was new, the windowpanes rattled for nights from my apprehensions more than the rainstorms. And madly trembled I. What if my shelter couldn’t take the pressure? What if it collapsed? A thousand what ifs that kept me holding on to dear life. Eventually, the rain stopped. Leaving the walls damp, the floor wet, the panes broken, but outside was such a beautiful sight. Not a soul around, no one to call my own, but the breeze sung lullabies, and all was fine.
Nigh two years, the lonely nights don’t bite.
They keep me company better than most might. Rains come and go, and it’s spring time. Flowers of the heart have started blooming again. Some grounds were just not meant for them; they suffocated and died. I nurture the buds, nourish them with renewed hope and whatever little sunshine the soul has left. A walk through rains is not meant for all, but a life blessed with rains throughout knows to survive. Testing my footing, while forging new skies. The destination may evade me, but the ride’s going to be fine.