I miss the rains. I miss the smell of the dry soil that has just been hit by the first drops of a downpour. I miss the sight of the little dark patches that form on the brown soil once the raindrops hit the ground. Sometimes I get to hear the sound of the raindrops when it’s really quiet. Other times the world is too busy complaining about how the rain knows not the idea of right timing. Sometimes I love the confusion that results when the lasses rush to get cover for their hair and they unknowingly bump into their crushes because they weren’t looking. On those occasions, ‘I’m sorry’ gets to be the conversation starter and the missies decide that it would be okay for the hair to be rained on this once. This once they get to take pleasure in dancing in the rain without being reprimanded for it. Oh, and the sweet feeling of freedom is made more delightful by the moment. The locution that the rain makes people grow ought to have some meaning after all and can there be a better time to ascertain this?
I get excited when it rains and you all would if you wore my shoes. I speak of a different kind of rain; the good rain. The kind of rain that doesn’t find you in the middle of the city and remind you that it has been a while since you last got home drenched. I do not speak of the rain that makes conductors hike fares to triple, sometimes even five times the normal and you prefer to have supper in town or stick in school/ the office until the torrent stops. I speak of the good kind of rain; the one that finds you in bed on the night before a weekend or a holiday. I want to think about the rain that contributed to your having food on the table because it did well its job of sustaining the crops and animals. I choose to think about the rain that everyone appreciates. Maybe a few people still get to hate but a blissful moment is not totally successful until it tags a string of haters along, right?
I do not know if I remember how it feels to dance in the rain anymore. Maybe there is nothing special to it but there must have been a reason why we longed to dance in the rain as kids, right? There must have been a sort of joy that we got that I do not seem to identify with anymore. Or maybe dancing then was fun at the time because it was wrong, you know, a case of the forbidden fruit tastes sweetest. I do not know if not being able to dance in the rain is something to worry about. I do not know if I should be scared if I run for cover the moment the first drop of rain hits my forehead. I mean, judging by the closeness of my hair and my forehead, the next drop could squarely land on my hair, right? Maybe I should carry my umbrella less often so that it rains more often. Maybe I need to actually get rained on enough for a while so that I appreciate the beautiful gift of rain. Yes, maybe I could even find my beat and remember my steps in the rhythm of the rain! There should be a reason why the rain hits different surfaces at different times and makes different sounds on them, right? Just like a drum set, only this time the dancers have to be keen enough to tell if the song that’s playing is their song. Oh, and I should make it clear that this lack of remembrance this nothing to do with my two left feet. 🙂
It has been a while since the last downpour. I can try and remember when last it was but doing that will be missing the point. I know it is not about how long ago it rained, but about how much I appreciated that rain and what I have been doing to prepare for the next downpour. I could say that I have learned how to dance in the sun but sometimes it shines so bright that it clouds my mind and I quickly forget my steps. The sun’s heat drains me and makes me all sweaty and thirsty and it sure is not the most conducive environment for training. But I know I ought to be strong. Maybe a tough environment is what I need to sharpen my skills, you know, just like the best athletes train in low temperature areas.
I was not adequately prepared last it rained. I did not have my dancing shoes nor had I got myself a trainer or enrolled in a school of dance. The rain was a bit scary and when I saw people the helter-skelter movements, I rushed to my safe haven and watched the magic of the rain hitting the ground from my window. I thought to myself that I would dance the following day but it’s been weeks and there has not been a single drop of rain. Well, the blue skies are beautiful and we can swim more often but I cannot afford to give up on the rain; not after I finally got dancing shoes for my two left feet.
I cannot tell how soon it will rain but for now I just need to know that I can get to dance in the morning sun… so that when I finally get it right with my left pair, then I can get to relish a chance to have my first official dance in the rain. Just a dance in the rain is all I ask; just a dance.
So don’t stop me if you find me dancing in the sun… practice didn’t become perfect on its own; someone had to do it. 🙂