Rain-soaked memories

In the labyrinth streets of my mind, memories find their place in every nook and corner. As I pass through these, I notice some rain-soaked memories tucked away in a corner - under a shed to help them from fading away. These are some handful memories of the days wrapped in the smell of the earth, the hot puffs from the bhajiyas and the endless cups of teas. While some are wrapped in an inexplicable search for the purpose of my being, some are full of fond memories with an evening spent with a loved one.

I have spent many evenings all by myself; walking alone on a path that leads nowhere and taking in whatever nature has to offer - rain, splashes, insects. On this journey though, I did ask myself many questions - why I was here in this city, away from home; what is it that I plan to achieve; what is it that I want to do 3 months down the line when I'll be compelled to leave this city and go back to my hometown. I needed time with myself - to answer these questions, rather to simply raise these questions. And there, on the lonely path, walking on soaked leaves and saving myself from splashes , I experienced many doubts being washed away from my mind and feeling one with the purpose of being here.

Now as it watch the raindrops from the window of my office, I can't help but think of the rainy day I asked myself, "What is it that I want to be?". It's another rainy day, in another city and I crave for the puzzled me who asked that question. I didn’t have any directions then and was head bound to find one, rather make a path for myself. I loved the restlessness, the passion, the many questions that left me sleepless at night. The showers instigated me to answer those questions. It was as if it were saying, "Here I am, pouring on the earth - the place where I belong. Where is your destiny taking you?" There was a perplexed me, a mystified me, a confused yet ambitious me who wanted to answer the rains.

Yes, it's another rainy day, in another city, so what is it that's bothering me? I'm cozy and comfortable in the four walls of this office. So what if I cannot run out and soak myself in the rain, but watch it from the glass windows? So what if I cannot smell the earth or feel the cool breeze? While it pours, I get a glimpse of the perplexed me standing in front of me. Drenched in the showers from head to toe, she smirks at me and asks, "Is this what you wanted to be?". There is no reply. Not yet.