Chennaiyil joraana mazhaikkaalam

It rained today. Here, in Chennai. The blue abode up above grew all murky and what followed was a generous downpour of H2O. No sweeteners, preservatives, wasn't carbonated or extracted from fruit concentrate. A shower of pure, unadulterated H2O. I got caught up in it while riding back home and it turned out to be such a nice experience. It eased traffic, the dense lot of commuters crowding under covers, awnings and shelters to escape the rain. Only four wheelers rode on and they too, were slow and accommodating.

It all started like this. The clouds thickened and there was a perceptible drop in temperature. When I started riding my bike, there came a forceful cool breeze. A meek kind of gust which made fallen leaves, torn up paper and roadside plastic scatter and swirl without pattern, as if terrorising them by announcing the arrival of a sudden torrent of rain and making them disperse in chaos. Then came the raindrops, stiff and firm, dropping heavily on the helmet. COME HAD THE RAINMAN. He sent shaft after shaft of pure rain drops down, playing and rejoicing with the few who cared to play along and sternly intimidating those who tried to escape him by indicating that he'd continue for some hours to come. Some immediately ran for shelter, some cursed and tried to hurry to their quite near destinations, some vacillated and looked around trying to make a choice while some rode on. Within seconds, the rain drops were coming down with a flourish, the initial stiffness of the clouds easing out as a travel-weary person on reaching his lodging would ease up while slowly un-shouldering his luggage. I just drove, happy to be in that place at that time. I got quite lucky, you see. A moving traffic that wasn't heavy, accompanied by a good steady shower of cool rain, the comforting thought that I'd soon reach home to warmth and dry clothes and perhaps some hot food, all combined well to place me perfectly in the position to get the most out of the rain episode. This was also the first good shower in quite some time, so the roads weren't really bad. Of course, when this gets over, it is all going to get slushy and stinky but as for now, the setting was perfect.

So I reached home and thought if I should write about this. We sometimes write for ourselves and often for others. But in certain cases, we write for the sake of an experience. Some wonderful experience which deserves to be remembered, which deserves its place in writing, just so that they are preserved, in however minuscule a forum. I guess this was one such pleasant experience - a little romantic, poetic and much cliched, yes, - but still so damn pleasant that it does deserve its own little dwelling in this maze of a world.