Rain

He never liked water. It was an element in which he was almost unfamiliar with. It always held a sense of danger. It wasn’t like he couldn’t float or swim, he could. His fear was attributed more to the fact of the feel of the water when it engulfed him. However, if water didn’t involve him being submerged, it brought another dimension of delight.

I love rain; the sound, the calm, the pattern, the smell and the feeling it brings. It brings about a sad melancholy, something like an opera in black and white, something old, something forgotten. A hint of nostalgia but a breath of fresh air as well. Oh I remember its smell, so distinct that you could feel it coming even before the first drop falls. The grassy scent that leads its charge is ever so welcoming. The heaven’s tears come sweeping down in one drastic motion, its sound deafening at times but at the same time peaceful.

In Singapore, it rains most heavily in the ending chapters of the year, somewhere along the lines of the month of November. The November rain has since been a yearly event I look forward to, it symbolizes a new beginning, and an end. My mom was born early in November and my dearest granddad left earth on a cold rainy November day as well. But that’s another story altogether.

The rain reminds me of my first love, how she loved the rain as much as I did. The smile on her face when she could tell that rain was coming. A distant memory from so long ago but lingering still. 

The rain reminds me of the years I spent serving my country as a foot soldier. I remember the looks of despair on my fellow comrade’s face when they knew that they were in for a muddy and sleepless night. And even on those rainy days where I found myself shivering cold in a makeshift shelter, I look at something I adore. It brings me pain but happiness as well. It feels like you’re welcoming an old acquaintance, one you would normally never invite but in the end still provides good company. I guess love is similar, it brings about such great sorrow at times as well as a kind of happiness you can never find elsewhere.

The rain reminds me of my adolescence. When we would embrace the falling droplets as kids and no one cared.

The rain reminds me of family. On those cold, lonely nights I spent alone in my dorm. I listen to the droplets and my mind instantly drifts to where home really is. I think about how snug I would be back in my own bed at home and how my mom would offer to share a hot chocolate while watching television.

The rain reminds me I am back home in Singapore, where there is no snow in the winter or piles of dried leaves in the autumn.

The rain reminds me of a nice warm shower; a privilege that most people enjoy after a long, tiring day.

The rain reminds me of my current love, but almost everything reminds me of her. It’s hard to focus on something else when you’ve already found something perfect. It’s her imperfections that make her perfect.