Tales of rain …

“Don’t go near the rain boy … if you get wet, you will get sick, then you will suffer, then you will die …” Mum

Sometime 1980 … when my brother was just a skinny wailing baby … I heard the words ring in my head, as mum indoctrinated (nicer word for brainwashed) into my operating system about the dangers of rain (in relation to cold & pneumonia). Those were the days whe I was the roadrunner buzzing around giving everyone a hard time keeping up with what I did, so maybe it's easier to limit my borders through mental simulation. Since then (until sometime 1995 onwards), I have avoided incoming rain as if it was the plague of locusts swooping from the horizons to devour me. But I love to sit by the window to hear the pitter-patter of raindrops & howling wind from the storm as it chills me into a cool relaxed atmosphere …

Then I saw a few movies (I think Rain Man was the earliest) where the characters just waltzed in the rain, so my mind came to motion … why aren’t they writhing in agony or dying with utmost suffering? Interesting question (pardon my ignorance & innocence?) … but still scared stiff, and while my young mind wandered off to other muses, the question eluded me for a while.

One day, as fate has it, it rained when I was on my way back home … (my house is quite near to school), but the distance seemed so far away (still small sized & dwarfed by my massive schoolbag, yes, my batch spawned the generation of monster size bags) … by the time mum reached me with a brolly, I was drenched (but so was my homework, wheee!!!) … so she quickly put me to a hot bath, gulped down a Panadol & went straight to bed. But the thing was, I did not get sick, I hated to be wet all over, so hence it strengthened my disdain towards rain.

I remember well my coldest rain encounter, and for a moment of time, the rain in Cameron Highlands was it, but it all changed when I experienced Autumn rain in Slovakia … unfortunately wet to the core at the bus stop, the wind dropped by to chill me all the way upon the spine at 9 degrees … and it felt like the end of the world because the feeling stayed after the wind subsided. Was so glad to board the bus minutes later cause it had a heater (I WAS SAVED).

There’s also a questionable encounter (still wondered if it really happened) … sometime in 1995, I was stuck at a bus stop at the mercy of a peak monsoon rain, so I was standing on the seats to avoid being further drenched by the marauding drops and since it was next to a drain, I just gazed at the high rushing waters. Soon, I saw something sticking out of the water coming my direction … and some lightweight stick I presumed. No, it was a big cobra, with it’s head all fanned out swimming with the current & as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared into the horizon. But mum said she believed me cause at that time, they were developing USJ (2nd stage of my township), so it’s possible this snake was ushered out of its zone.

My best memories of rainy days are thunderstorms, when I sit at the coolest spot in the house, reading my favorite books, with great music & food. The warm feeling of comfortably snug in my own corner, oblivious of the storms & enjoying time for myself. Just like now.