A divine experience

I have never been a great lover of the monsoon. Having been brought up in Mumbai where the entire city unites and flows as one huge smelly gutter in the rainy season, being outdoors in the rains just brings up memories of long bathes with tons of Dettol and scrubbing every part of my body which had come in contact with the rain water to get rid of every inconceivable thing that the rain water carries. So it was a surprisingly amazing experience the other day when I walked for an hour through a torrent of the heaviest rainfall Coimbatore had seen in a long time.

I had set my mind on going to the temple one evening. It was just 5 in the evening and it was as dark as it would be at about 8 at night. I knew that the sagging clouds up above were waiting for me to step out so that they could pour out their woes to me. I know that I sound complacent, but it is true. The clouds, the leaves the trees and sometimes even the big Guy himself. I hear all of them talking to me..complaining to me, blessing me, showering me with happiness… I guess nature shows affection in its own way to everybody. It’s just that very few have the time to realize it and respond likewise.

I step out with determination writ boldly all over my face armed with nothing but a hand me down umbrella. I had walked maybe 10 meters and my friends from the heaven rushed down to meet me. First the fat ones came down, every drop as fat as an elephants bottom, perfect teardrop shaped ones. Following them in lightening speed were the lighter sharper ones. The only thing between me and their overwhelming love and desire to meet me was my umbrella.

I discovered that the best way to walk in such a heavy down pour is to tuck both hand perilously close to the torso and to hold the umbrella tightly with both hands. Thus I marched on… feeling almost like a brave soldier who in the face of all odds marched towards enemy lines… I almost felt like SRKs introductory shot in Main Hoon Na, except for the clumsily tucked arms holding a worn down umbrella. My freshly washed jeans, cling to my legs and gradually soak up the rain water so thirstily that I can feel them weighing me down after about 15 minutes of this march. I rarely wash my jeans and the day after I had finally washed them, it rains this heavily. What a waste of all that soap!!

We are half way to our destination and the rain eases out. A few moments more and I reach the temple and find it to be bone dry. It had not even drizzled there. After darshan, as soon as I step out the skies open again as if carrying on with me some incomplete conversation from where it left off. The rain just as enthusiastically continued its prancing and dancing on my poor umbrella. The huge rain drops splattered on to my glasses disintegrating to a million tiny specks, making every thing in front of me a blurred vision. As the rains forged down so did I forge ahead – undaunted. I could have taken a bus or a rick or the many modes of transport that were available. But now this was between me and the rain. It had taken all this trouble to come down and meet me. I was going to oblige it. As I waddled though the rain water – mostly clean (anything is clean compared to rain water in Mumbai) I relished in the feeling. The road was almost empty – Coimbatore being a two-wheeler city. I had the entire stretch to my self save the occasional bus or the brave cabbie.

As I walked slowly down the road, I had a strange sensation – one that I had never experienced before. I felt as if all my tensions getting washed away. I ran a mental scan of all the people I had ever come in contact with in my short life span and I forgave all of them. I asked for their forgiveness. I felt free and relieved. I felt happy and joyous. I felt alive.