The Endless Ways, of Rainy Days.

The Endless Ways, Of Rainy Days.


It’s Raining.

And memories rush in, filling my mind like the clouds racing across the sky.

How beautiful Rain is. When I was little, my grandmother used to tell me that
Rain is a blessing. And that every little raindrop was carried by a Beautiful Angel.
And when Rain falls, prayers are answered. And wishes come true.

As a child I’d been fascinated by “Rain”.
I guess, to an extent, every child is.
But living in Karachi, you come to appreciate the soothing, cloudy days … even
the few scarce gentle showers, after the blistering, hot sunny weather.

Rainy days were special.
I still remember, just trying to run out in the garden like crazy.
My mom trying to hold us back, for the few initial minutes ….
Me and my brother and my little sis, grinning at each other like Cheshire cats.

Who cared about Umbrellas?
They were just silly, back then.
All those colored stripes, and silly metal wires.
In the end, they always landed upside down in the garden anyway.
Filled with water, and paper boats.
A frog or two if we were lucky.

Stay out of Puddles?
Oh come on….
They were made to “Splash in”
And we tried our best to avoid them. We did.
They simply were Magical, and moved around to come in our way where ever
we decided to go.
Wasn’t our fault.
Not really.

We would play. For hours.
Played” Tag” and “Oonch Neech”, where we had to climb up on higher ground
to escape the “Den”. As the eldest, I usually ended up chasing the other two
little monkeys.
My best Childhood Friend Amal, lived in the house just adjacent to ours, sharing the
same boundary wall. We’d climb up on the walls .. and sometimes on the roof.
It was pretty safe, but we’d have to be extra careful, the grown ups wouldn’t spot
us. We were “Dainty” little girls after all.
We weren’t supposed to climb up walls or trees.

We knew better.

When we were older, I remember sitting with Amal, sitting on the roof, and watching
the cars, pass by, on Zamzama Boulevard. Sipping coffee or tea. Talking for hours…
Sometimes singing …

Me, my little bother and sister were crazy though.
Little Rain-nuts.

We had to do the unexpected.
That meant being creative and coming up with sillier and naughtier Rain-games.

And of course, we had to collect all the “Magic”, and that wasn’t possible, until we had
“Eated” the “Rain Drops”.
That was the tricky part.
How to eat enough of them, without being spotted by the parents, the granny,
and the hovering household servants.

We managed, of course. 🙂
We were Magic and Miracle Magnets after all.

Then there was the “Rain Tradition”
The “Pakoras”
God Bless Pakoras.
And the Pakoras, my Grandma used to make were legendary..
Potatoes, mint and spinach, and onions mixed together with spices…
With Green mint chutney.
And yummy tea… sometimes with boiled eggs if it was cold.
And it was heaven…

And then of course, there was this “Sea view” drive, with ice cream from ,
Baskin Robbins, or Snoopy’s and Chicken Shashlik form Seagulls… lol…
The driver was given strict instructions to keep us “Locked” in the car.
I didn’t blame him. Poor guy.
Sometimes we had to bribe him to let us out, to play about for a bit.
Sometimes it worked. Mostly it didn’t. 🙂

No wonder some of my most happiest memories are associated with rain.

Were things simpler back then?
Or were we, as children, too oblivious the the realities “out there” ?

Now, with rain Today… there’s always this sense of unease … discomfort…
The roads getting flooded, the power break downs…
Our lives getting “disrupted”.
Who wants to get wet anyways?
There are designer clothes, and designer cars and hair-do’s.

And designer people, with designer personalities.
And Realities. 🙂

We have simply “Conditioned” ourselves into this rushed, colorless, stressed
out, drained, flashy yet fake, overwhelmed yet unfulfilled existence.

The platitudes of Life, and us, so busy running, afer it, around it, over it,
behind it ..We have simply forgotten what it was like, to just Live.


Live. Love. Be Happy. Be at Peace. Enjoy the moment.
The simplest things in Life…..

If we could only leave worries aside, we would be surprised by the beauty of the sky,
and the colors of the flowers. The freshness of the breeze, and the lively gold brightness
of the sun.
We would feel the “Miracle’ of Life inside us.
We would feel like part of “Creation”, and life would start to make sense.

I guess, the greatest of gifts is, to understand, that the greatest happiness, is in
not to have everything we Want, but to Want , everything we already have.
The greatest wealth is to appreciate what we have and “who” we are.

Not “what” we are.

My Grand mother always told me ” That what you will need, will always be a whole lot less, than that what you want – And If you don’t have it- Maybe you don’t need it after all.

And so it rained today. 🙂
And with it came this gentle realization, of what “Real” is and what isn’t.

It was like this quiet nudge, from the deepest recesses of my consciousness.

“Kiran …. wake up ! ”

And as the winds, picked up, the clouds, thundered, and I heard the pitter patter of Raindrops against the window …. I raced up on the roof, just like I used to do, as a little girl.

And I stood there……
Just stood there…. under the Rain, lifting my face towards the Heavens.

Feeling the raindrops caressing my eyes, merging with the unexpected tears which came, with Memories, good and Bad… Happiness and Pain.. the prayers granted or not, Miracles, Found and Lost…. Every hurt inflicted on my Soul.

Each moment of Precious Love.
Every person who had touched my Life.
All the Lessons learned and all the Dreams….
Oh, My Dreams ……

The Glitter beams, of My Childhood Dreams …..

And I willed every Angel, carrying the raindrops to touch my Heart.
I felt every little miracle, of this gift granted to us…..

And I felt, Hope.
Above all, I felt God’s Love…. Which is there.. Always….

And I realized, how Grateful I am, to be part of all this.

And I know, I will never, ever see rain again, without feeling, this Love, this peace,
and this Gratitude for God and Life… No matter what.

No matter what.

And now, Back to reality.

Pakoras… Here I Come 🙂

Heal me with every Little Drop


~ by backtowardslight on August 13, 2011.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: