1. The Rain Now
I look out from the window and
take a sniff of the cool midnight drizzle - the smell that brings memories back
to senses. Amidst the silent backdrop lies the sound of rainwater gushing down
the drain culverts like nobody's business, and unperturbed by the ravages of
disease. Regardless, it is apparent that the rain has now presented itself as a
therapeutic medium and offers the troubled minds a sense of peace and calmness.
Much have changed since the last
torrential rain in 2015 so it is not surprising that more changes would be
observed in the coming months of post COVID period given that we are now living
in a volatile and uncertain world.
The cooling breeze is unexpectedly
soothing contrary to the restless mind reeling from emptiness and insecurity caused
by the worrisome pandemic. While we are living in the new norm now, let us not
forget that someday in the future the rain will bring us another set of bizarre
sensation. That is when we are old enough to call today a
history.
2. The Rain Then...
I looked out from the
bus window and realized that the torrential rain was perhaps unprecedented in
this tiny tropical monsoon island. It came abruptly, like a child bursting into
tears when he scratched his knees in the playground. Spattering droplets on the
thin metal roof clearly amplified the uneasiness in one's mind caused by the
inclement weather.
As I was pondering about, the magnitude of rainfall worried me - the fragile umbrellas, helpless pedestrians seeking for a proper shelter at the void decks. Nothing about the vulnerability of life that was more explicitly presented than this rainy landscape. Yet, the bus driver seemed indifferent to the changing scenes, perhaps he had embraced the resilience of mankind in the adverse environment, let alone a short downpour; and flash flood was definitely out of the question. To him, perhaps being vulnerable was an inevitable recipe of daily life
The bus slowly made a
turn, signaled the indicator before it came to a halt at the bus stop. Some
passengers were desperately fumbling their umbrellas, waiting anxiously to make
an exit attempt without getting wet. Other than the muffled rain droplets, the
silent dialogue between the driver and the passengers was obvious: His
indifference was warranted by the quiet space in the bus whilst their insecurity
stemmed from the need to mobilize themselves across different spaces to get
home. I wondered, what kind of belief would we ascribe in our lives?
Moments later, carried
away by the rhythmic rainfall as the sky fell pitch dark, I snugged myself in
front of the flickering monitor, hoping to find similar traits of human beings
in the sea of the virtual world.
