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The open,uncut and unapologetic account of a pessimistic,self-centered,constantly cribbing,highly intelligent yet incredibly stupid fruit.

Saturday 7 September 2013

Chennai rains and Chennai girls : Confessions of a Chennai Pluviophile

On this gloomy Sunday Chennai morning, I can't help but contemplate about the past, the present and future prospects as I walk my dogs down my street. I do this on a daily basis, and many a time in the rain, but no morning has been so moody and thought-provoking as this.




In the past couple of months I've seen my life turn around in front of my eyes, totally aware and awake, yet totally unaware and dazed. Going through a rough phase following a breakup, drowned in self-pity and hopelessness, I never thought I could be the same person again. Though I don't really blame anyone for it, what remained behind was a total disregard for humanity and a a complete shock in context to the erratic nature of us human beings. It was shocking to see how quickly how most of us change in such a short span of time. It was shocking how quickly our whole outlook and perception towards certain things change. Our belief systems, our principles, our desires, our ambitions, our dreams, our whole persona can change in an instant. Change may be good, but at what cost?


And then I discovered what change really is, when I met a woman I used to know as a friendly acquaintance about a couple of months ago. Conversations led to repulsion led to even more conversations led to a few meetings led to some more repulsion led to more meetings and a whole lot more conversation led to eventual persuasion. What followed has been nothing short of the stuff that goes into novels and novellas. What's even more intriguing is the huge role that the Chennai monsoon has played into scripting the prologue of a hopefully long and never-ending tale.




This woman, the rains and a lot of other factors have culminated into a peculiar emotion of pleasant surrealism, and I often find myself wondering if this is really happening. The familiar streets I used to walk on a regular basis, the familiar places I used to frequent since I was a child, suddenly seem totally new. I found every single Bollywood cliche coming to life, especially in the context of the role rain plays in typical Bollywood movies. This rain, this fucking rain, makes everything so unbelievable, so surreal that you start to question your sanity and also induces a fear of what will happen if I lose what I have right now, if I lose her in the future.


But at the same time it's made my turbulent mind come to terms with life. This woman and this rain together have changed  me in and out, and helped me come to terms with my past. They've taught me to be more understanding, more compassionate and made it easier to let go of the things I tried to hold on to unnecessarily. They've made me feel guilty about blaming myself, blaming the person I used to be with earlier. Why did I blame her so much? It wasn't her fault. She moved on, and I didn't. It's as simple as that. We come across so many people in our lives and every single person has a part to play in our lives, and changes us forever. Maybe for the bad, maybe for the good. But every single thing is an experience, which is obviously good. And so did the person with whom I used to be. She changed me in so many ways, and so will the woman I'm with right now. If I could, I'd hold on to this forever, but life doesn't work that way. The only constant is 'change'. However, is isn't wrong to have a little hope, and try working towards holding on to what/who you love.



As I inhale the final few drags of my morning cigarette, I can't help but think that these Chennai rains and Chennai girls are also weirdly comforting, soothing and constantly remind you to chill the fuck out. They teach you that life, though beautiful, is unpredictable. Sometimes there's a drizzle, sometimes there's a fucking downpour. You might find shelter, or you might get drenched to the bone. It's up to you whether you want to carry an umbrella and protect yourself, or let the chips fall where they may. And of course, there is this other situation where you carry an umbrella, it rains, and you decide to throw that fucking umbrella away and get drenched anyways.

You can't expect it to rain when you want it to, neither can you expect it to stop when you want it to. Just do what you're doing with an honest heart and an open mind, and enjoy the fucking moment. If something is meant to happen, it will.


"That may be all I need

In darkness, she is all I see
Come and rest your bones with me
Driving slow on Sunday morning
And I never want to leave."