One morning..

There is a strong wind blowing outside. It’s a grey morning. The weather forecast told yesterday, there’s going to be heavy rain in coming three days. Evident. It was hot and humid for at least a week. I woke up few minutes ago. For a change, I thought I will clear my head in the balcony instead of staying up in bed for another half-an-hour. I walked up to the balcony window and look out. A beautiful sunless sky shaded with dark grey cloud here and there, grey pitch road, dark green beetle-nut trees behind the opposite housing row nodding hard, paper-scraps and dust rustling, prancing over the deserted street…our balcony garden is filled with dry leaves, probably it stormed all night. The rain starts pouring in. Sporadic rain, directionless, irregular force. Ma called for tea from the dining room. I left window-side and went in. I was thinking of getting my camera and take some pictures; it has been a while since I used my camera. But I couldn’t think of clicking anything in this landscape. I will just end up disappointing myself, I thought, because I will never be able to capture what I am seeing. Ma was saying something, about her ailing mother, or was she talking over phone? I was distracted as usual. I was trying to concentrate on something, but couldn’t. I was distracted, I wanted some peace and silence. I didn’t even realize when she stopped talking and went back to her newspaper. The wind and rain are getting stronger outside, and even more sporadic. Ma said, let’s hope it will be cooler for the next few days, can you believe it’s already autumn?…feels like monsoon or those summer-storms…unpredictable weather nowadays… I looked outside.

Unpredictable indeed. Rain used to be so different. Rain, storm, cloud- they used to be musical, poetic, romantic…they even made me propose for the first time. I once deliberately went up to the roof to see the storm, just as our class-teacher told us how she used to see them coming from the horizon. Adrenalin rush with all the dust shooting around. Then it used to rain sky-breaking, and I once in a while would indulge myself to get soaked. Curiously, no cold ever caught me after these kinds of indulgence… But rain is crazy nowadays. It doesn’t make the garden plants greener. In fact it makes them even murkier. Before we know, it comes and goes and dries up in storm and paints everything dusty grey.

Grandma’s probably gonna die within months. Good for her. Not that I care, but her children can’t see her like this. They cry all the day. I can’t get my brain together to finish my work, because I am a sick girl. And time is running out by days, and weeks, probably months. Don’t feel like going out in rain, even to my university or the places I like. Don’t feel like talking, or listening. Even to my colleagues or supervisor. Don’t feel like staying awake, can’t fall asleep. Even that sound of water is bothering me. Is the tap open? Or the stupid rain is back again? I am bothered by the sound of water, the sound of my origin, the birthplace of life itself. I guess I am. Ma is shouting now, the tea got completely cold. I should give her a break, she’s having much harder time nowadays. I think I will sit for work now. This time I must meet my deadline. Finishing some work will probably make me happier than singing or writing this time. But let me close the window first. It is raining again.

(PS I actually finished some work this time after writing the first draft of this story. It took me 3 days more than I planned, for obvious reasons. I really did feel better after one day of working. But by the time I finished, I was lying within a pool of blood in my head. So that’s that. But there’s no quitting. My mind is still there, tired, unwell but still not void of reasons. So we keep rolling and always keep fighting.)

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