The July rain was pouring down, and kept pouring. Endlessly. I sat in my veranda, sipping my coffee. And I watched the rain. I listened to its sound. There’s, ah, so much dance in the rain! So much joy!
It’s – in a word - magical.
But in the midst of this overwhelming rain, I began to hear a song. Very faintly though. It flowed in, in my ears, from far afar. It, for surety, was not the sound of water, but of mortals.
The mojo of my feeling was distorted, abruptly. For this song has enfolded me. Initially, in a warm, intimate mood. And then, it put me in a strange feeling. It’s like a kind of melancholic feeling. I can’t really bring myself to put it into words.
I turned my gaze around, and looked for from where the song was coming. For in so doing, eventually, I caught sight of it. It’s just a handful yards away. She was a young lady, beautiful too. Seated in my next door neigbour’s veranda, she was strumming the guitar and singing. All alone.
As she played the guitar, she would close her eyes and shake her head to the melody of guitar. And she sang to her heart’s content,
When you touch me like this
And when you hold me like that
It was gone with the wind
But it's all coming back to me
It’s the Celine Dion’s ‘It's all coming back to me now’. I went on watching her play guitar, and sing. In awe. I could hear her, this time, much louder - it’s, I suppose, the rain slowed down.
In a little while, I felt a pang of utter sadness deep inside my heart. Was it because of her song? Was it because of the rain? Or, both?
I don’t know.
Because the truth is that I was so bewitched. Yes, by this young lady; more tellingly, by her song.
Then suddenly, something started cramming inside me. In an endless stream, though. My heart swelled with an endless downpour of heavy emotions. Like the rain outside.
To put it precisely, the lady’s song has really strummed in my heart. It stirred the core of my heart, and unknotted all its stitches. So my emotions unraveled, pouring down.
Some of my emotions carried a warm and affectionate feeling. Others were a chilling and dampen experience. They had been bruised and broken by the brutal thunder and lightning of life. Also, they are limned with loss of beloved ones, broken relationships and failures.
In each memory, there are parts of me back there, broken off and left with him or her or them or time or place. And I ached for them. I yearned for them. I cried.
So, going forward, I want to say this too. For years, I had forgotten all those moments, emotions and feelings. They had long remained dormant inside me.
However, what she had stirred in me was a part of my very self. My past, my feelings, my works, my personality, and my relationship with different people, place and things define who I am today. All this create me.
Outside, it continued raining. At the veranda, this beautiful lady continued signing,
The flesh and the fantasies
All coming back to me
I can barely recall but it's all coming back to me now