From the pen APN, 19.09.2015
It was raining hard outside. Big
rain drops were hitting the ground and then they were getting scattered into
fine droplets. The music of the rain had filled the environment. The clouds had
made the afternoon dim and the sun was missing.
The window of my room was open
and my son was completely absorbed in looking at the rain washing the road that
passes by my official quarters. He was silent for a considerable time and was
completely lost in observing the Nature.
My wife drew my attention to my
son’s deep meditation at the rain with a comment, “Looking at the rain, like
father, the boy has also set out into a dream-world.”
I felt a little proud. After all,
my wife recognized that I am a dreamer, writer and poet-like person. Such types
of comments are very rarely heard from wives. (The word ‘WIFE’ is made plural
to denote all the wives of the world married to persons like me or you)
I looked at my son; he was really
lost in viewing the dance of the rain drops. His serious silence was heralding
that he was deeply thinking about some philosophical questions of life. I
wanted to read his mind but I failed. He looked like a saint of very high order
who was lost in the highest plane of meditation.
I went near him and slowly
touched his shoulder. The young child’s shoulder was indicative of his natural
softness. He was still looking at the rain intently. So he did not respond to
my touch. I softly asked him, “What are you looking at?” With his eyes still on
the continuing rain, he told, “I am looking at the rain.” He described me the
obvious and my intention to get into his mind was checked as if by a protective
fire-wall. I mellowed my voice and asked him again, “What are you thinking, my
son?” This time he looked into my eyes and in a serious complaining tone muttered,
“Because of this rain I cannot go out and I have not played for last two days.”
I suddenly realized how rain
could affect a child so deeply. I also understood the veracity of the nursery
poem which says, “Rain, rain go away/Little Johnny wants to play/Rain, rain go
to Spain/Do not show your face again.”