Within the sound of rain

It’s a working day, I should be at work too with the rest of the city that never sleeps, but I am at my window watching the rain.
It always rains in Bhandup. Perhaps the fact that the only mountains not levelled by developers stand close by, is the reason why. When the rest of the city is almost dry, we get heavy bouts of rain.

Today, the rain is soft and musical, it soothes my fever to watch it. The rain turns everything so green, and the greenery that my colony is so rich in shines with new life.

The sound of the rain is like the sound of a river, it whispers and gushes and murmurs by turn, and somehow acts like a hand on the brow, easing away the furrows.

Most days the rain is a nuisance, coming as it does to spoil ironed clothes as one leaves for work, but today, as I sit silently and alone by the window, the rain seems something different. I am not a part of it, not a player who has to contend with its wetness. And in that detachment, I can see its beauty, sense its value.

Nature seems hushed by the sound of the water, but not quite. In the distance, the crows are still holding court, the cawing goes on like background music.

Up in the branches, a bird calls, a tentative call, more like a musical cheep. I seek it out and am amazed at the fact that it is so tiny, just as big as a lemon leaf, and yet its call is so clear.
As I watch its call is answered. Another bird, just as small, flies from the nearby tree to join it. Then they are quiet.

On the grassy lawn, where on most holidays the boys play noisy football in the slush, an erget slowly lands, wings outstretched. I watch the dancing step with which it folds away the white wings, and starts a prancing walk, almost tip toeing through the grass, with beak pointed downwards.

Perhaps the rain brings to the top creatures that otherwise stay burrowed in the grass, and he can expect a quick, easy breakfast.
I wonder where the koel, whose loud, never ending plaint wakes me sometimes at four in the morning is, the rain seems to have ended his complaint, and he is silent, hidden in the trees.

Then suddenly, the rain, with a sigh, ceases. The swishing becomes a slight pitter patter and quietens to a drip drip. I watch the drops falling from the trees, the light catches some just so, and they look like the fairy lights that are strung at evening dos.

Nature’s chandeliers, though ever changing and momentary!
Suddenly it’s a busy world out there. The birds take to the skies, others are on the top branches shaking themselves dry, sending out tiny drops from their feathers. The squirrel comes out on a branch, and looks around, to check perhaps if the white cat that is its nemesis is anywhere around. Then with a whisk of his tail he is gone, scampering up the branch on some errand.

The sun comes out, and everything glows with green luminescence, and once again the sound of human voices, and traffic comes to the ear.

Time for Nature to take a backseat in the world of sights and sounds, at least till the next downpour!