Rain

They say rain is water, but its a lot more than that. Rain is loss and rain is gain. Huh, a rhyme. Who woulda thought? Wait, wait let me explain before I get carried away with more rhymes. Not that I am much of a rhymer, that was a fluke. Sometimes flukes work.

Am I writing gibberish to meet the hundred wordmark? Rain is loss. Loss of homes. Loss of lives. Loss of sunshine. Rain causes chaos and traffic and billboards to fall here in Nairobi. Rain is loss. Rain is gain. Gain of crops. Gain of trees. Gain of nature. Gain of vegetables and grains and wheat.

Rain is smell. Smells like a dream. Smells like something new. Smells like comfort. Smells like Home. Rain is thunder. Thunder is noise. Noise is fear. Noise are echoes. Noise is a calling. Come, see this rain. Come, hear this thunder. Come, witness this destruction. Come, experience this growth.

Rain is beauty. Rain is wonder. Rain is heavy.

Heavy, heavy rain.

Like right now.

Rain is God’s way of crying. That’s what my grandfather would say. But grandfather lived in a bubble of his own. He believed things that weren’t necessarily true. Rain is not God’s way of saying He is angry. Its clouds bursting, right? I am probably wrong.

I don’t know what rain is.

Rain is love. Rain is light. Rain is loss. Rain is gain. I am going round in circles aren’t I?

Let’s talk about fake rain, you know, the rain they have in Dubai. Where the heat is so blistering they need fake rain to cool down the temperatures. Shout out to climate change and global warming.

Maybe rain is anger. Anger from God for not looking after His planet. For treating it with so much disrespect we have a whole two words for it: climate change.

Rain is calmness. Hear its sound. You will automatically want to meditate. I almost wrote medicate there. Which reminds me, have your meds. So the rain doesn’t feel too heavy.

Rain is weight. The weight of water rushing down. The weight of floods piling up. The weight of puddles. Puddles to jump on. Puddles to drive on. Puddles that carry dirt. Rain is dirt, but it is also cleanliness. Rain wipes out any mess. Even the mess in your mind. It’s cleansing.

Rain is creation. It creates flowers and trees and prose and literature and music and dance. Rain is dance. Remember when SRK and Kajol danced in the rain. Have you ever danced in the rain? You should try it. It is freeing. Walking even in the rain. Is freeing.

Rain is freedom. Freedom is open. Raining is the opening of clouds. Clouds are letting go. Letting go of the rain. Let that be a metaphor for life. When our minds get all cloudy and we want to let go we let ourselves rain in the form of tears. Tears and anger and sadness and frustration.

Maybe grandfather was right, Rain is all of these things. God must be feeling all of these things. So He rains on us. She rains on us. God is a woman. I claim that. Many have claimed it before me. God is a woman. Rain is her feelings.

Rain is feelings. Feelings of what you ask?

Well I will be going round and round and round if I keep repeating myself on what rain is. Rain is a circle. A circle of puddles. A circle of traffic. A circle of an umbrella that keeps us safe. Rain is safety. It makes us want to crawl into our blankets for comfort. Rain is so many things.

I’ve lost direction of where this is going.

Rain is loss. Rain is gain. Rain is a cup of tea. Rain is bhajia and sauce and soda. Rain is a glass of wine. Rain is a dance. Rain is sex. Rain is gumboots and raincoats and hoodies. Rain is sneezes and coughs and sometimes snot.

Rain is gain. Rain is loss.

Rain is many things, and rain is pouring right now.

A tree has fallen and Oshwal centre is flooded and General Mathange has traffic. Rain has power. Rain is a storm. Like the people I love. Does that mean I should love rain? Is rain the depiction of the people I love? It might be.

I could keep writing. Gibberish and more gibberish. Are you enjoying this piece of work or do you want it to end?

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