Writing Assignment: Why I Adore Rain
Since my first rendezvous with dark, threatening clouds, I have been fascinated by the ethereal beads they shower. How the water droplets fall from the sky, as if the heavens are bestowing their blessing upon all of God’s creations – giving them an opportunity to grow, to thrive, to wash away their worries, at the same time relieving them of the scorching heat of the fiery Sun.
I am one of those innumerable creations of His who finds solace in rain more than most. Whether it be a slight drizzle to pounding showers, I have always been elated by the touch of rain. The fragrance of Earth after the rain kisses the is so incontestably refreshing, and every time it pours, I can be found in high spirits.
Often, I hear people whining during a downpour, not unlike the popular rhyme that goes, “rain, rain, go away, come again another day”. The first time I heard my mother recite that rhyme, when I was about six, I was astonished. I immediately came up with an alternative of my own, a version which truly encompassed my undying passion towards rain – “rain, rain, come again, please don’t ever go away”.
In the fall of 2017, I moved from India to Singapore on a short notice, which seemed punishing. In my initial days, I used to constantly think about India: our pool-facing apartment, eating delicious pancakes with our neighbors on Sunday mornings, the tiny corner in my room where I would sit every night and read my favourite novels for hours. I missed my friends, my school and I kept revisiting its corridors and the memories we made in it. I was nervous. I was in a new country with a completely different culture and traditions. The transition was even more stressful because my new school did not offer Economics, so I had to switch subjects about two months before my final exams.
Gradually, I began to accept this change and moved forward. Rain falls very frequently in Singapore: Soft sun-showers at certain times, severe downpours at others. What more could a pluviophile like me want? I decided to channel my emotions by unifying the two things which give me the best pleasure: Rain and poetry. Whenever low, I would sit in my balcony with my aquamarine pocket notebook and let the raindrops overcome all my senses. I would pen my emotions down, smiling at the sound of the drops hitting the railing and the faint scratching of my pen on the paper.
I wrote about the water running down the meadows, and the petrichor emanating from the rapidly drying grass. I went on and on about the effect it had on me, how it would make me want to run to the centre of a field and spread my arms wide, waiting for heaven to cast its spell on me. About the water drenching my jet-black curls, and the heavy dew settling around my dimples. Just as the rain leaves behind a clear, cloudless sky, my poetry about it left me with a clearer mind and a different perspective.
Does an idol always have to be a living, breathing person? These drops of life from the sky became my idols. I admired how Rain could not only exist with every other force of nature, like the Sun, or the wind, but it could also enhance their glory: The beautiful rainbows are formed in the sky as a result of interaction between these droplets and light from the Sun. It inspired me to adapt to my own surroundings, and taught me the meaning of collaboration. Intense rainstorms also invoked in me a desire to be strong and face my obstacles fearlessly. I was grass, and the rain helped me grow. At heart, I’m still the same girl who held her mother’s finger, and begged rain not to go away.
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