Does rain and romance have a strong connection? Perhaps so, because a drizzle does spark a passionate light of love in many human minds. It is often the lovers and poets who have a special fondness for rain. It is a common belief that those who love to watch rainwater splash on their windowpane, or like to get drenched during a downpour, or enjoy riding a rickshaw with the hood released, or listen to melodious numbers on a rainy day are people who understand ROMANCE better than the rest. The rain lovers can arrange for a perfect surprise treat for their loved ones, write beautiful letters (in these days, emails and SMS) or talk amorously hour after hour over the telephone.
These are just beliefs though, but I guess every statement has some degree of truth in it. Only a few weeks back, this Dhaka city was inundated with a heavy shower and many of us remained protected in our own comfy homes, hardly stepping outdoors.
During that dull period of one week, I talked to numerous people over the phone, and bothered them with one question "How much do you love this seemingly never-ending rain?" To my surprise, about 90% of answerers said that they loved this rain and that a cloudy weather was bringing in mind the thoughts of the people they love. Well I myself am not a rain lover. And one of my friends once went like, "you don't love rain because you are unkind and unforgiving…" Well, I don't agree with her on her declaration, and I do also disagree with the fact that a person who's not fond of rain can't be romantic. After all, what's so special in a Bangladeshi downpour? A shower means that the roads of Dhaka will be submerged in sewage water within a matter of half-hour or even less. And think about the day labourers, who go unemployed when rain hits the town. The non-stop rainfall of the past weeks halted the city activities. Rain appears to be a sort of unproductive natural event in this small but busy capital of ours. I myself can't help but wonder what infinite beauty lies in a rainfall that can make hundreds of people homeless, uproot trees and plants, crack roads, overflow puddles and cause mouldiness on the walls of houses. Rain is not romantic in a country where majority of the people can't afford to buy an umbrella, let alone a plastic raincoat.
The people I asked in the beginning were individuals belonging to the upper stratum of the society, these are people like you and me, who can sip warm tea and read newspaper in a drizzly morning. People who know that even if they miss a day at office, they won't go starved. To us, sitting by a window and staring at the heaven is fine because we can afford this much of extravagance. But those living in the lower or the lowest socio-economic class of the community, to them, rain is a cause of stress, anxiety and starvation. The "bua" or housemaid who comes to work at our home at 9 in the morning couldn't come to work for 4 days because her small tin shed home was flooded by rainwater; she lived on her feeble bed for days. I (maybe it was impolite) asked how she managed going to the toilet…She only gave a coy smile for a reply. I still don't know what she and her family did for those four days but whatever they did would probably not sound pleasing to many privileged people. As a social being, I find it tough to enjoy a romantic rainfall when people I know so well remain fixed to beds with bedsteads that screech, and wince from pangs of hunger as they can't get down from their shelter and go to work. Rain, in reality, brings miseries even more miserable than the above-mentioned story relates.
I am no philosopher or philanthropist yet my heart sometimes does ache when a 7-year-old is spotted cold, bare and hungry when heaven soaks the world beneath it. I can't afford to sit by a window, gaze at the grey sky, hear the clouds thunder or write a piece of poem when thousands others awkwardly munch coarse, uncooked rice to kill their unbearable hunger.
Weather like my mood/ Rain beating against window/ Singing her sad song, / Beats against my soul window/ I feel a sadness inside.
Photo: www.daylife.com
Date of publication: October 5, 2004
Comments