My Tune: Glad by Tyler Hilton
I like it when the rain is so badly pouring hard that I can’t actually hear anything— not our housemaid’s caustic tongue, not the random crowd’s irrational braggings and noise, not my dog’s annoying barking… not even my own heart, which by the way happens to beat both faster and slower at the same time lately.
I was born to love the rain. I may not have the capacity to prove this to everyone and present a scientific explanation for this one, but I honestly don’t need Science to justify how I feel everytime it rains. I have this weird but beautiful devotion to water and everything which comes with it. Obviously, it has been raining like there’s no tomorrow this week. I often hear people say “What are the odds?! It’s raining! Hate it!” or “What the f***?! It’s raining again?!” I just don’t see the point of hating rain. What’s there to hate about rain?
I constantly tell my friends how I feel very light and carefree everytime it rains. You see, when it does rain, especially when such rain comes with really really strong winds, I usually feel like I can do everything right then and there. I instantly feel like there is nothing that I won’t dare to try whenever it rains. The rain makes me feel happy, to cut the long story short.
I guess the reason why some people hate it is because they didn’t get to experience what I had experienced with the rain. In no particular order, and as much as my memory can recall, here are the things which make rain so relevant and significant in my own view and perspective:
1. It was raining hard when I was born (so I heard).
2. As much as I can remember, there never was a time when I celebrated my birthday without raining. Every 24th day of May of any year, somewhere between 17:00 and 22:00, waters will always fall from the sky with their ever glorifying power which has been known to sweep me off my feet (and I don’t mean in a humiliating way. I mean, in a bigger and sane sense).
3. My favorite and beloved grandmother’s birthday falls on an August day. Raining hard during this month has perhaps already been a religion.
4. Everytime an important moment in my life which I feel will change me forever happens, it always rains.
a. I got drunk for the first time.
b. I didn’t get any sleep for the first time.
c. I had my very own pet dog for the first time.
d. I threw mud filled with dirty water at the person I loved for the first time.
e. I told someone “I like you” for the first time.
f. It was raining when mom and I went out together on a “date” for the first time after almost seven years.
g. Someone told me a dirty little secret for the first time.
h. I was able to learn how to mix a cocktail for the first time.
i. As I am writing this now, it is raining.
5. It was raining so hard when I got to take home with me a poor little kitten (It is currently with me. I made it my own. Its name is Airwalk. She is Airwalk).
6. (I honestly can’t remember all the other things which I may use to tell you how raining makes me so alive, so I have convinced myself to just share with you the most important and also the most recent event when it rained and my life is then made never-before. Here I go…)
It has been raining hard when I encountered life in the form of The First and The Last, The Venerated and The Despised, The Prostitute and The Saint, The Wife and the Virgin… The Mother and The Daughter.
When I was told by someone that life is a mere game which people play just for pleasure, it was raining.
It was raining when I took a look at love, life and everything which comes in between as something which is readily wonderful.
Minutes ago, when I was once again able to attend a journalism workshop after almost six months already, it was raining.
It was raining when I told myself that I will become what I had never been before: a warrior— both of body and soul.
I held a hand.
I made a kiss.
I looked up at the sky. Its colors changed from orange to purple.
I was crazy.
I was being desperate.
I was being insensitive.
I was being typical.
I was never the same person I ought to be.
The rain, man. It makes me want to jump off a cliff and find myself deliberately floating up to heaven.
The rain, man. It caused me (a normally sane being) to write in a random state of mind (an act of insanity).
The rain, man. It makes me feel right when it’s wrong all along, and makes me realize that I don’t really care about what’s wrong and what’s right.
Sometimes, the rain also makes me deteriorate into a clueless infant— doesn’t know what’s wrong and what’s right, but smiles in glee once he feels something is so right even if it is technically wrong, like running hastily. When an infant runs fast, he often falls down but before which he is filled with enjoyment and passion for something he really feels he wants to do. Just like an infant, who gets hurt after ignoring what is right… who either learns anything or nothing from the experience.
And right now, I am in between.
I’m tripping hard, falling down onto the ground, ’cause I cant stand up and I can’t fall down…And I’m somewhere in the middle of everything.
— Dishwalla, Somewhere in the Middle