Ode to the Rain

01:34am. I can’t seem to get to sleep. So I lay motionless with my hands parked on my chest, and glare into the black ceiling. I check my bedside alarm-clock and realise not even a mere two minutes have passed since I last checked. It’s almost as if passing time itself is being swallowed into the dimness of the night.

I can hear rain from outside my window, an unrelenting but composed rainfall, and I suddenly get the urge to rise and stick my head out my window. First, I slowly climb out of bed, then, peering again at the clock, retrieve the packet of cigarettes and lighter beside it.

With my arms stretched out of my window, I can feel the cool droplets patter against my warm skin. I remain positioned there for a while, staring out at the rest of the world which is engulfed in deep darkness and deep sleep.

I place a cigarette in my mouth, though tussle with the notion of actually lighting it for some time. Chet Baker’s ‘It never entered my mind‘ hums mechanically from somewhere yonder in the back of my mind. Gazing up, I see no moon. The black sky casts an eerily dark shadow upon the world. My ears pick up on no distant noises; only the steady sound of the pouring rain.

After three or four tokes of my cigarette, I toss it out. For as long as I can remember, smoking before bed has always given me a headache.
With no visible moon for a companion in what seemed to be a never-ending night, I chance a rapport with the rain. 

“Tell me your secret,” I begin whispering. “How is it that your monotonousness is so captivating? Why is the sound of your silence so rich? What is it about your simplicity that is so endearing?

You shower with such purity and persistence. You rejuvenate, and you stretch your tranquillity over the span of your reach. You wash things clean and douse landscapes with fresh beginnings. 

You fall with humility, and yet land irrespectively on whatever you want to.”

I stay by my window for a few more minutes, and the rain responds to my utterings with nothing more than its incessant drizzle. So I decide to draw the conversation to a close and try to get some sleep.