Reading with the rain

It had been quite some time since I finished a book; I had taken up Villete by Charlotte Bronte, looking forward to a great pleasure in the pages. But I was handicapped by my little (read non existent) knowledge of French. So, I gave up, thinking, “I’ll come back to you when I learn French” :(

But since it was difficult to read Villete, there was very little motivation and I hadn’t been reading at all. ‘A’ remarked one day that unlimited internet at home was the culprit. And I suppose, she was right. Because when the OS crashed, I finished a classic within 3 days ;) and what a delight it was to read!

‘A tree grows in Brooklyn’ is about a poor devoted family in Brooklyn, their struggles, their joys and their determination to rise above the inevitable sorrows of poverty. It is about the strength each shows in times of trouble, the values imbibed in each, their togetherness and little celebrations.
Nothing dramatic ever happens in the book, there are no twists, no violence, no exaggerations or understatements and yet, I found myself crying through out the book. I confess, it takes very little to make me cry, but then it had been a while since I had cried like that – out of happiness!

It is needless to say that the book is moving and I was astonished to find out that it was the first novel by the authoress.
I found out yet again, what a relief it is to be able to cry! A few pages into the book and before I knew it I could feel the tears which were lurking somewhere unnoticed all along, beginning to come out of hiding…

Aren’t tears a lot like rains?
Sometimes they drizzle, a few drops down the cheek, only just wetting it and when there is some humor in the next line of the book or when you realize you were silly, you laugh- even before they are dried – like the sunshine piercing the clouds for a short while, while it is raining. Isn’t that when colorful when rainbows are formed? When there is sunshine in the middle of the rain? When you find something to smile about in the middle of the tears?

And sometimes they pour long and hard like the stubborn evening rains, and you are rendered helpless, you just watch them flowing. Those are the ones which drench you out, hit you on your face, daring you to be brave, challenging you to come out…

Well, however they are, once they stop, there is freshness again, everything once again blooms, the clouds give way to the warmth of a drenched out, mellow and becoming sun, and everything seems prettier than it ever was! It feels as if the sadness is washed away and the troubles have drowned, as if the little remaining droplets dripping from the tip of the leaves or window sills remind you of the downpour that taught you a lesson…

Ok, I know I took a long break and I am now torturing you people with my senti post, but then, I have myself missed writing! Missed musing and rumbling and cribbing…
What could be a better time to come out of the break than just after getting drenched? Yeah, it was pouring today, a fierce downpour accompanied by hailstones and temperatures dropping drastically! I was for the first time in my life scared of getting wet in the rain- it was so violent, and yet it was beautiful. I came home soaking wet, trying hard not to chatter my teeth or to shiver like a leaf, but both were involuntary – the rain seemed angry and revengeful! And how warm and cozy the house felt when I finally reached it, how much I missed amma when I gulped down an ayurvedic tonic which she used to make me swallow whenever I came in from rains – to prevent cold and fever, I had never thought I would drink it on my own…
Well, so much for being busy and being woken up by a crashed OS and rains…
I wanted to write a lot of things but ended up writing something very different altogether, I wanted to give facts and opinions, I ended up being senti and mushy :P anyways, thanks for tolerating! :)

PS: I didn’t exactly drink the tonic on my own, my mother made sure she heard me gulp it down my throat while I was on phone.

PPS: but I did drink the tonic and not water, so its kind of like drinking on my own :P :D

PPPS: even if I had tried to deceive her (which I didn’t, honest!), I suppose she would have been able to differentiate between the gulp of water and the gulp of tonic :P
(No wonder, the gulp of tonic should have a yucky undertone to it :P ;))

PPPPS: this one is just to test the tolerance level of the reader, on how far one would go to read the PP..S’ – also since I have missed these as well ;) ;)