In its own way, the nature’s way

It was already late evening. And that I was still in my office. But hey, I’m not an “over-sincere” civil servant. In fact, I was waiting and just hoping that the rain would stop so that I could walk home. But it didn’t.

So I pulled out my umbrella and marched into the downpour, toward my home, clutching my bag to my chest. The moment I started walking, the rain poured harder. Even the air became damper, chillier. To put it simply, the March rain is pretty uncomfortable. Because it retains the cold, that of the winter, unusual cold, isn’t it?    

It was almost instantly dark, starkly though. Actually Thimphu doesn’t become so dark this early in the spring. But that evening, it was. Maybe – just maybe – it could be because of the heavy downpour, or the dark clouds that hung so low and held the entire valley in its bosom. To me, it all appeared like the heaven was kissing the first spring blossom of the year.

The road that I walked was virtually empty. All shops closed and the people returned to their homes. And as I walked, I could feel the fresh aroma of the spring in the air, its fragrance all exuded, fluxed with the rain. I became so intoxicated. I felt as if I were in the company of a beautiful woman, walking together. Honestly speaking.   

The endless droplets of the rain splattered against my umbrella and against the road. Some drops big, others tiny. And they produced a rhythmic beating sound with different uneven beats. I stopped walking, abruptly; however, not to listen to the rain sound.

I started watching the rain tapping on the pink peach blooms and green leaves that was perfectly illuminated by the streetlamps. They met so gently, almost playfully. Ah, it looked so passionate, so sensual, and so surreal. Instantaneously, I was hit by a wave of something – a few questions though.

Is this how nature mates?

Does nature really make love?

Sorry readers, I’ve no idea what really aroused me to think about it, but there I was asking these questions. As I continued walking, the sound of the rain enfolded me and the darkness too. But deep inside me, it’s these questions that enfolded me overpoweringly.

As I write this post, right now, these questions still buzz beautifully in my head, my heart. I was and still am very much sure that I can’t get the answer, anyway; not even in my writing. But now I can, at least, console myself that all I could see was the mystery of wild, the wonder of nature. Perhaps heaven can make love with nature, in its own way, the nature’s way.