Visit blogadda.com to discover Indian blogs
image1 image2 image3

HELLO I'M MISS CLUELESS|WELCOME TO MY PERSONAL BLOG|I LOVE TO DO CREATIVE THINGS|I'M A PROFESSIONALPROCRASTINATOR

For the love of rains...

"I’m moving," she said as she plonked herself on her usual spot at the house. Nobody looked up from their phones or laptops nor did anyone flinch at this apparently life changing statement. "I’m moving," she said again, this time a little louder and emphasising the words a little bit more. Feeling bad for the lack of attention her best friend finally pity-asked her, "where?"

"I am moving to a place where it rains continuously, there is no point living here and melting our skins off in this heat. I want to go somewhere where either it rains all the time or is cold all the time. That is where I will be happy," she reeled off.

This was a very usual thing for Kimberly, talking about moving, wanting to go somewhere all the time. Not that she had gone anywhere as much. She was as rooted as she was a free spirit, but she was always unhappy with the weather where she was. Currently, she was hanging out with her best friend Brett and his flat mates. This was another norm on the days that she wouldn’t want to work or wanted to work but wanted someone else to arrange for the food while she was working. Shenanigans, tantrums and all, she was accepted.

Rains, monsoons or not, are something that she absolutely loved. Her bucket list had this chasing rains travelogue, where she wanted to travel in a pattern where every place she visited would have rains. No one understood that about her, how rains would suddenly change her mood or how nothing about the rains bother her. She was happier if she was stuck in traffic during the rains, her logic? I get longer to listen to music in the rains. The muck gave her an excuse to buy more footwear. Getting drenched and falling sick meant that she would be pampered more and have cosy clothing and blankets to hide under. There was nothing you could say to her about the rains that she didn’t love.
She liked something else a little more than the rains, or rather it was a someone else. Brett made her heart flutter. She’d known him for so many years and for those many years there wasn’t a moment when Brett didn’t make her glad he was in her life. There was just one problem, he didn’t feel so hot about the rains.

“I’m moving,” it happened again. Only this time it wasn’t Kimberly, it was Brett. There was complete silence, everyone was waiting for him to explain that it was a joke. “Sorry to use Kimberly’s line guys, but my company is actually moving me to another country. It is a better position and a great opportunity. I’m sorry I sprung this on you, this has been in the pipeline for a while.” Everyone was shocked but they were happy for Brett, everyone except Kimberly. Kimberly was not happy, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to leave, at all.

Time flew, it was the day Brett was leaving, they were all on their way to the airport, it was raining, there was traffic but there wasn’t any music. There was silence, a morbid silence – sadness drifted through the air. Airports are known for the tears, rainfall from the eye, and that night there was a thunderstorm of tears. They all said their goodbyes with long lingering hugs and watched Brett as he walked in and until he disappeared. Kimberly couldn’t take it, she decided she had to walk, she needed the water to touch her skin – she needed it to tell her it was going to be okay. She asked the others to wait at the exit and that she would walk till there.

She started walking, slowly the rains reached her bones, chilling her spine – but she didn’t feel the comfort. All she could remember were the million times when she would get drenched at the balcony of the house and how Brett would coax her to come back inside. Memories, she somehow needed them to be washed away.

Suddenly she felt a tap on her shoulder, she turned to find Brett there with the guys. All of them drenched to the bone. “Kimberly I wanted to ask you something. Can I call you my girlfriend now? It’s been a couple of years, and I can’t have you hanging out with these jackasses without them knowing that you are taken.” There was a lot of cheering, there was a lot of hugging and then there was a silent whisper, “I may not love the rains but I love you enough to love them too.”

It was all for love, and for the love of rains…

Share this:

CONVERSATION

0 comments:

Post a Comment