I see Beauty in many things. And like the ghosts that only speak to you if you notice them, they tell me wondrous tales. With my camera and my thoughts, I captured these as faithfully as I can to share with you. And by doing so, they gave me the reasons. And though the thousand reasons may not all be sweet and some indeed bitter; they are still reasons to live. Come to think about it, that is Life, isn't it?
Even as a
child, I loved storms and I loved rains. No matter how violent the winds blasted
and rattled. How they pushed against the windows like a wild animal trying to
get in, I was never afraid. I was afraid of a lot of things but never a storm.
I treated it like a loud friend who dropped in suddenly, unannounced, but whobrought excitement to the dull existence of a monotone life.
I loved how
the hawkers scrambled, how the housewives rushed to retrieve clothings still
hanging on the lines, how the dogs barked impotently at a threat it cannot
comprehend and how the smarter cat with a meow disappeared to the safest hiding
place. I loved how the first few drops of rain dissipated into a mist after
just a momentarily imprint on the hot paved road. Or how the light reddish
brownlaterite soil first took on a deeper tone, and then run off to be the
first to form a puddle.
I loved the
raindrops splashing against the window, how they run down like the tears of a
broken heart. I loved how the coconut tree swayed its branches like a dancer in
wild abundance, high above the other leafy trees that released their leaves tothe wind. I loved the sound of a million chatters. The pitch according to whomthey spoke to; the zinc roof, the paved
road or the monsoon drain. I loved the cool, moisture laden wind that brought
relief against the heat. I’m happiest and saddest during the life of a storm.
The sight,
sound and feel of the storm are now different for me. But I still love the
storm and the rain.
