October, 6th 2024
I always like it when the rain comes. The atmospheres, memories, the smell of the ground—petrichor—they say, the blurry views, the sound, the noise and bustle, everything. It’s an irresistible urge to do nothing but sit back and enjoy. Nothing can beat its magic, if I may say so.
There is something about being in the “ber-ber months” that creates an inevitable confusion. It brings a subtle wave of anxiety that the year is slipping away. Seasons change relentlessly, and I’m getting older.
If I could choose, I would gladly soak in the rain instead of seeking shelter. But today, it doesn’t feel like the right moment to indulge that desire. I found people huddled on porches, crowding beneath the canopies of storefronts. While the shopkeepers hurriedly close their doors to protect their goods from the downpour.
Truthfully, I’m grateful for the chance to pause my hustle for a moment. To take in the scene, smiling and chatting with fellow rain-shelterers. I notice a child intently watching the rain, letting their fingers get wet—beaming with pure joy. Asking innocent questions about the rain, their curiosity peaking. Nearby, mothers juggle large shopping bags while fathers carry their kids, making sure they didn’t get wet. Some faces look anxious, while a few couples giggle—unsure of what they’re discussing.
Sometimes, its okay to rest a while, enjoying life and live in the moment. Because I realized that during the rain, we share countless stories while waiting the downpour to ease. The vague pause that I would love to experience forever.