A boy of about 4 or 5 years, he'd probably just learned to happily sing
"Rain rain go away, little Johnny wants to play...".
but stood at one window of their house in the quarters, sad and disappointed; punished for doing it despite having forbidden to... twice!
It was an early summer day; those days when his place had seen rain with hailstones; and this was one of them. Just as it started pouring down, and the hailstones clattered onto the streets, he'd wanted to run out of the house. He wanted to relish 'Ice'... luxury then. A cautious mother who'd already warned him against going out if and when it rained was busy washing laundry.
However, a few minutes into his hailstone-hunting, she probably realized something was out of place, and went to look outside. Summoned into the house, his head was dried and all the 'Ice' he still carried were poured down the sink. After some chiding, he was given dry clothes to wear, and Ordered (with a O) not to go back into the streets until the rain stopped.
Did she know that was exactly what he would do? For, he was back on the streets and out in the rain, in no time. This time when she found out, he was dragged in, scolded harshly, made to undress and stand waiting for dry clothes, so that he wouldn't go back to the streets. He would have to remain so, until the rain had stopped... and that was her way of keeping him from falling sick.
And there he was, standing at the window, hopelessly staring at the street as the silvery white stones melted away. Little did he know either, that he had already fallen in love with Rain.
As years rolled by, he had forgotten this story, his little love affair with rain. But he never missed a chance to get drenched when it rained. Whether it was on his way back from school, college, the library or office, or anywhere else, he found opportunities to wet himself tip to toe in rain water.
"But now, he's 'Grown-up', and has so much to take care of... a family, his work, friends, society and what not!". Such thoughts seem to have gotten into this puny little thing of his, called the brain, which sometimes works, leading to what the learned ones call 'worry'. His worries and bothering of no apparent origin are taking a toll on everything he's supposed to take care of.
Along came another day, when it rained; just before the onset of another summer. He's just got the chance to savor another shower of rain on his way back home. Again ordered to dry himself (as always, by his mother...), a cup of tea is offered. He picks it up, and walks to the gate wanting to be out there, but is stopped by her once again.
The craving to go and stand under the bursting clouds is pushing him. Quickly finishing his cup of tea, he runs up to that attic of his house. Just about to enter, he stops, and looks up to the sky. Drops of water force him to close his eyes, but he doesn't bother anymore. He's out there; letting the rain do what it does best. As the drops hit his face, he smiles for the first time in a while. And with the smile, come back sweet memories of how he'd once done the same thing as a little boy.
He had come to peace with himself, and when rain drops trickled down the neck, they washed down all worries with them... at least, for the moment.
