It is an unusual weather. But rain in Dubai is beautiful. The mind glides into a deep journey of thoughtful contemplation and tranquillity. It is a delightful world. Like many others, I have stepped out into my balcony wielding the video camera to capture a few moments of the glory. These are one of the rarest and the most ecstatic moments in the cloudless, arid regions of the world. I am as exuberant as my little child when I look out. As for her, she is witnessing the first rains of her lifetime after she has started getting the smell of the world around her. She was born in the mid summer of our native land where the clouds simply open up and pour down in the monsoon. Ironically, she had missed the delightful sight, for we had moved out in search of greener pastures abroad, to these rainless regions of Arabia, a week before the onset of the first beautiful monsoon of her life. But perhaps she is lucky, for these showers are the first of its kind in years in Dubai.
The rains have always been fascinating. Back home, in God's own country,the aesthetic mind gets to relish much more of the beauty of the rain.The pitter patter , the muddy puddles, the veritable vegetation and floral bounties standing washed as if painted in the brightest hue, all excites the heart. Peering out of the window on a sunless day the murky skies lend a balmy delight to the eye. . The rain clouds seem to be the pouting little child ready to burst into tears. The thunders and lightenings may be the taunting elders. Soon the rain would pour down and the little brats of the neighbourhood run out in joy splashing in the little puddles . The dreamy adolescent stands in a trance gazing on for hours at the nature around standing washed in rain . Night rains are passionate. The tiny silver drops of water on the blades of grasses shimmering in the street light adorns them like the christmas tree and fills the heart with an inexplicable sensation. All is dark and still outside and the mind dances to the rhythm of the rain .With a pen and paper, like the blind in the dark, the poet gropes for words to get rid of the ache in the heart but to no avail. The wearied man amidst the din of the city , sits back and listens to the music of the rain that soaks in as a soothing balm to his strained nerves. Long drives in monsoon are charming. The car streams on. Water forms weird designs on the windshield. . Looking out, the vision gets distorted in the heavy rain. The trees, the buildings and the signboards appear like the half done painting on the artist's canvas.
In arid deserts , where the sunbeams burn like fires and the earth sweeps in the whirling dust, the light showers cool the eyes and soothe the being. People are madly rushing out grateful for the little drizzles the heavens have showered on this parched land. The red hot ground that throws needles right into the eyes now stands damp, the fiery fury vanishing in the ecstasy of a beautiful shower. Water is dripping from some dusty windows drawing strange designs. Someone drives amidst the rain with the windows rolled down. The scent of the air is refreshing. No umbrellas are visible. All stand emotionally involved with the nature round. Emotional myself, I put my little one's hands outside. Her starry eyes twinkle at the first drop of the desert rain on her palm...
