First rain of spring

There’s nothing like the soft pattering of raindrops at dusk to set one thinking. There’s nothing like the soft rustling of the trees and grass in the breeze that calms one after a long day. There’s nothing like the smell of a parched land slaking its thirst on with the oncoming rain to remind one that there’s so much we forget when we rush around trying to see and do without feeling.

It rained for the first time since I got into Bangalore exactly one month ago. I was waiting in the evening in the flat for a chance to get some nice cloud-filled sunset shots (didn’t go jogging today cos down with a bit of the flu) when it happened. For once, I didn’t hear or see the rain before I smelt it. Yes I smelt the coming of the rain. And this wasn’t a smell in the bad way but a pleasant smell of the land releasing long hidden scents that lay dormant beneath the dusty dryness. It was nice.

Was funny that such a seemingly mundane thing could cause me to pick up the computer to write but perhaps it’s a sign of what we are and what we’ve become. I would never have noticed the rain like I did and would never have made a big deal about it (perhaps it rains too much back home) but my being here and having the time to reflect about life, the universe and everything (couldn’t resist that, sorry) also gives me the chance to rediscover the little things that matter in life.

Rain aside, we often don’t notice things enough. We rush around forgetting people beside us, the natural beauty of things around us and sometimes, more alarmingly, who we are. Scary as that sounds, perhaps being able to connect with nature and people around can be the first step to regaining that little part of us that is lost when we decide to dive headlong into things that draw us away from what and who we really are.

But maybe it’s just the rain. You know what they say about rain and madness…

The rainy evening from my window. Looks gloomy but smells nice.

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about the brushhead

had a head like a brush (it's more like an egg now). seeks to sweep through thought and faith with that brush. tries to wax philosophical but often forgets to wax off. trying to be good brush to all, while discerning what kind of brush he's meant to be.

Click here to contact the brush


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