Pitter patter..

Are blogs better than writing personal diaries? Umm I don't think so, fast yes but not better.. But then speed has taken up our lives and when 'saving time' is on the agenda, who can complain.

Rains are very swift memory seekers, aren't they (Just like Mr. Potter of Griffindor) .. they love to dupe us by their slow pitter-patter while they deftly do their jobs at the back of our minds. Its raining outside, no smarty points for that, you must've guessed it by now and yes its begun to play the trick. And where will the time machine take me this time? Umm I guess school it has to be, the sweet 'bachpan' of yore, the perennial center of nostalgia.

As one grows old, more and more no. of years of the early life get included in our talks that begin with - 'Jab hum chhote the..' As if Maths has some inverse relation with age and blurs the distinction between what was recent and what was older than recent.. I think age is taking its toll on me too :).

Whenever it rains I can only think of green.. green leaves breathing slowly, drained by the effort of keeping alive in the shower and trying their last to retain the remnants of little life giving pearls of water.. Like a lovely, frail lady, bereft of love, drained with her attempts to survive all alone, trying to hold onto the memories of her beloved, the last potions of life...

Ofcourse as a kid I would have never been able to pen that simile, those days jab hum chhote the, I loved to wet myself in the showers, every single pore and loved sailing paper boats in the narrow streams, springing up from nowhere within minutes of rainfall, and that too under an umbrella, lest the boat gets wet...How silly and how sweet and how thoughtful..

And when I could drive, I loved driving under a sharp torrent from the skies, along with friends and sisters... I just loved those rains cause they gave a new meaning to nothingness... They taught how beautiful silence is and that not doing anything can be so fulfilling.. Cause with so much of heavenly play around how can one not be silent and dumb and watch awestruck... And what was the need to do anything and how could anything of more significance be done, anything more urgent and important than gazing the greens around..

And how can one escape from relishing the silence, at its best... Those were the days of sitting in the balcony, listening to soft ghazals of Jagjeet & Chitra, snuggled cozily in a blanket with a tasty novel on the lap and crisp snacks by the side..

OOh mouth watering memories... I still like to gaze from the window and watch the rains but can not say that still relish getting wet crazily like before.. After all some things have to change!