Three Things

It was raining very heavily and the place I stay, has an amazing weather. I have always liked the rains. Getting completely drenched and stamping on the mud puddles , getting myself dirty. Playing around. However, it's been a long time since I enjoyed the rains so carefree. Some of it is due to a bad timing, with me being too conscious of my surroundings, some of it because of a weak immunity system and some of it because i just didn't bother. Somewhere the spirit of wanting to enjoy, had disappeared . Or maybe just the concept of enjoyment had changed. 

I am 24 now. And already dealing with a terrible heartbreak, a terrible amount of uncertainty and an obscene amount of negativity. Then yesterday, it rained. I watched it for a while, and stepped onto the open terrace, just to get drenched. Strangely, this too, was because I just didn't care. Timing was bad too. Immunity still weak. But the strongest reason, I just didn't care. So there I was, getting soaked, my mind, completely blank. Playful spirit gone for good. Then three things happened.
I heard the wind whisper into my ears. Not the first time the winds have thrust themselves across my face, really. But this felt different. I moved my ear away, as if I was telling it to 'buzz off. I don't want to listen to You. ' But it persisted. On my right ear, and to it. It continued to whisper. In that moment, for the first time, I actually heard the whisper and not just an effort to throw wilful thrusts at me. I heard it. Felt as if it was talking to me. That it wanted to talk to me. Like a stubborn loved one, who refuses to give up on you. As if there was something urgent it just wanted me to hear. That second right there, felt different. Maybe bad phases or dark times in your life make you poetic. It's just the wind flapping it's wings on your face. One can't tell really. But there in that moment, it felt different.

I have a swing on that terrace. Since its the rainy season, and the textile used to clothe the seat, isn't waterproof, the seats remained wrapped and safe, with a plastic cover. I never told anyone, but I have had these terrible urges to sit on that swing. As if sitting on it would help me brood better. Or maybe make me feel good. Or just rest my feet after a workout. The plastic is wrapped in a way that one could sit in the swing, although not comfortably, but one can. I chose not to , it's dirty. It would dirty my clothes. The rain water was accumulating somehow on the dirty seat, and was making it dirtier. I was drenched and dirty. And like I said, I didn't care. I looked at the murky water accumulated on the seat, and frowned. Before long, I found my shock absorbers comfortably sinking into the filthy seat. I swung. For a while. Then got off.

There are lots of cows here around my locality. Since my house sits in the midst of open fields, I get to see a lot of the cows, now so important in my country's politics. Because it was raining heavily, around 7 cows found shelter under a tree-ed patch. Some calves found shelter under the mother's belly. They stayed there, calm and relaxed, as they always are, waiting it out. The downpour stopped. And I saw a few of them, shifting around as if to make up their minds whether they want to move ahead. Most of the cows stood still. Except a few, who set out to continue their journey. Some disagreements I am sure i thought and smirked. In a couple of minutes, another shower. The rebel cows split. Some of them turned around and came back to the previous shelter. Some found a new one.