Remember a Rainy Day

It’s been raining incessantly for the past week now. It’s been raining memories too; memories of another time, another place, and rain…always, the rain. 

I like the rain when it falls softly, gently…

It reminds me of my first kiss, from a boy I had secretly held in my heart, hoping, yet never expecting to be loved in return. But it rains magic sometimes, and some of that must have touched us and kept us together, if only for a while. I remember that kiss now, in that magical, misty rain, and the wonders of first love.

I like the rain when it beats down relentlessly…

It takes me back to the day my bike had refused to start – thanks to the rains – and I had had to push it all the way home, from college. What had made me ignore the near-pneumonia the weather had almost given me, was the company of the boy who had walked me home that day; who had pushed my bike for the better part of the journey and had made the hour seem to rush by in a few i-wish-they-never-ended minutes. I remember the wishful beginning of my last love.

I like the rain for the remembrances. And I like the rain for all those feelings they brings back. But lately, call it growing up or growing old…

I like the rain, mostly, when it stops. 

I give you Smokie, with 'Have you ever seen the rain'.

Now She’s Fat and He’s Bald

So apparently, it’s all about appearance these days. She won’t consider going out with him coz he’s not ‘hot’ enough, and he won’t give her a second look coz he thinks she’s a plain-jane. That’s ok, I guess when you’re teenage-young and forgivably stupid, but not such a good excuse when you’re older and looking for something meaningful.

And yet, take one look at the matrimonials and you see that almost all ads for brides begin with ‘Wanted beautiful, fair, tall girl…’ or ‘Handsome, fair boy seeks…’  And in that mad scramble to find a groom, you have columns that read ‘Wanted groom for beautiful, slim, fair girl…’ Leads you to believe that the usp for the marriage market is good looks, good looks and good looks.

So what happens ten years down the line, when father time catches up with mother nature? What happens to the passion that was once fuelled by beauty? Does it die down in change, or does it finally find different reasons to linger? 

I find that beauty is merely an advantage for getting that first look, but it takes beyond a pretty face to sustain it. And I guess most people do have a sensible head screwed on their shoulders, because when I look around me, I see plenty of couples who may not look breathtaking, but definitely look happy! The only conclusion I draw from this is that somewhere, growing up, people stop looking at beauty, and start looking at worth. 

And then, there’s that maverick feeling, love.

The thing about love is that you can’t force yourself to fall for the person who wins the most ticks on your list. Or withhold it from someone you may have never considered at all, even. The heart itself is beyond your control, and maybe that is what eventually equals things out. And then, it’s not about being attractive, or holding that perfect ‘bio-data’ that brings two people together, but quite simply, the understanding and unconditional acceptance in another’s eyes, and that special feeling that gives more joy than anything else ever could.