'Twas a Rainy Day

Tuesday; 13/3/12. 'Twas a Rainy Day.

Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby. - Langston Hughes

After hot days of February, a rainy day is welcomed.
Rain pattered down on the world outside, hitting the windows with the sharp clatter of raindrops.
I could feel the coldness brought by the rain, and yet I welcomed it with open heart.
Lying down cozily under my duvet with notes and literature scattered on my bed;
I looked outside my window and smiled to the scene before me-
the pattering of raindrops, the wet window sill and the lush green leaves cozily nestling the raindrops.
There would hardly be anyone who wouldn't love this beautiful setting.

Rain and the coldness may slow others, but it didn't slow me.
I was stimulated, in fact. Ideas came pouring down from my brain to my fingertips.
Whilst typing furiously on my iPad and humming to the sounds of raindrops that I love listening to,
a piece of memory from childhood invaded my mind - absentmindedly, creating a smile on my face as I replayed it before my eyes.

Flashes of me and my grandparents sitting in the garden, drinking coffee - them, not me, I'm more of a hot chocolate person by the way, hehe- while admiring the pouring rain, as we waited patiently for the rain to pour steadily before sailing our colourful paper boats down the gutters on our street.



I saw flashes of me giggling and running in the rain, barefooted, as my grandmommy chased after me.
She was in her early 40s, hence the energy to run and follow after me - a tiny but fast creature.
I remember getting dirt and mud all over my skirt, and on my tiny feet up to my knees, haha.
My hair was damp and tangled to one another with grass and leaves sticking out from it, haha,
and my face was 'artistically' and 'beautifully' painted with mud.
>.<

Mommy was always concerned that I would go down with fever,
though she didn't stop me from living my childhood, as she once said,

"Childhood as it should be is the one where the child is happy, and as the child grows older, she/he could remember her/his childhood memory vividly and smile to it - it proves that the child had an amazing childhood and it is all because of the happiness the child once felt."

17 years later,
'the child' is found, wrapped under her duvet with a broad smile plastered on her face,
as she recalls her fondest childhood memory and now she's shaking her head lightly, thinking over her mother's words and silently muttering, "Mothers are always right", before breaking into a fit of chuckles.



I thank Allah for the rain and for the brief comfort of it.
And for sending me to this incredible, amazing and wonderful family.
=')

Here's to hoping a better tomorrow,
Natasha
x