What is it about the rain that triggers such melancholic state of mind?
An afternoon walk provided a rare “hujan panas”, and as others scuttle and scurry in flight for shelter, it was my thoughts going on wayward ways.
On wondrous days of being soaked to the skin without a single worry.
Of serene occasions whereby the world is as close as the space around you.
In wonderfully expressive songs of joys and sadness of a well-understood symbolism.
In my mind’s eye, the English light drizzle is still crystal clear in the serenity that it brings.
I forget though the sheer joys of the warm showers of my yesteryears, growing up in a village which everyone regardless calls home.
Watching streams flow though crevices into fields unscathed by crude concrete intrusions, knowing the puddles formed will point the way to beautiful fighting fishes scooped simply with the smallest of open palms.
Hearing the laughter even as elders looked on in disdain (wonderment?).
The pitter patter of naked soles splashing about in sync with the falling water droplets hitting haphazard obstructions.
Waiting for the aftermath, imagining the breaking of sheer white clouds, visualizing the vibrancy of colors rising to the heavens.
Days long gone.