Preena Shrestha

It rained today. First, I heard the gentle pattering of raindrops on the terrace. Then, the curtains started billowing in and out, as they always do before a storm. I parted them a little and peered outside, and sure enough, I could see gray clouds veiling the blue sky.

The leaves of the tree outside my window were gleaming under a thin covering of water. I kept staring out for sometime, remembering the effect rainy days had on me when I was much younger.

Splashing puddles on our way back from school, shrieking with joy at the drip-drip from the eaves, going swimming in the rain, even that ear-piercing thunderstorm in class six after which our school was flooded — our classroom stood on a marooned island, it seemed, amid a vast lake of muddy water — are all afresh in my memory.

I walked up the stairs to the terrace and flung open the door. The distinct smell of rain meeting the soil hit me at once. Stepping on the wet floor outside, I realised I was barefoot.

But I would not leave that majestic scenery at any cost. I started playing with the small puddles formed on the uneven floor.

At the back of my mind was my mother, who would undoubtedly get into a fit if she realised I was playing in the dirty water.

The sky rumbled again, the roar emanating from all around. It reminded me of the ‘surround sound’ system of the theatre I frequent. I kept wiping my face to prevent the water getting into my eyes.

The raindrops formed intricate patterns as they fell on the puddles. I walked around with delicate steps, my feet leaving small prints on the ground.

As the breeze whooshed past my ears, I smiled, feeling blissful and at peace. Nothing else in the world mattered.

As time passed, I started feeling silly at my rather childish behaviour. A woman across the street was taking down her laundry while struggling to hold the umbrella in place. She gave me a strange look, as if to say, “The kids today!” I was drenched and I could imagine how frizzed out my hair would be the next day.

Though it might sound like a childish pursuit to indulge in, there is nothing like playing in the rain, its joy unmatched by anything else. How do I stop myself!