In search of a story

The rains followed her and she followed the rains. She had followed them all the way to Spain and then back to Cambodia. It had been a long journey, punctuated with riddles and puddles, colors and shapes, smells and tastes. But most of all, it had been a journey in which love was born. This is her story..the story of a girl who followed the rains, fell in love and...did she return? To think, it all started off with just a little bit of curiosity...

"In a little place up in the woods, far away from the hustle-bustle of the crowd, lived a little girl. And nobody would have remembered her, if only it wasn't for her unkempt pigtail and big, wide eyes, which seemed to fill up all the space in her little face. If you happened to pass by her house, like this old man on his way to the town's market, or that giggling group of children to school, or the chipmunk on his way to gather corn, you would see a pair of black eyes and a tiny nose plastered against the rain streaked window pane. There was something in that face that made you look up and smile. I assure you it will not be a happy smile..nor a sad one...but a smile that comes without feeling...nor for that matter, a lot of thought.
This small town was nested in the foothills of a great mountain range. The town was wrapped in lush greenery, canopied in mist and streaked with rain. In the distance the snow covered lofty mountain peaks stood proud. But from the little girl's window it looked all mist covered and obscure...almost like a shelter against that unknown rest of whatever. Life in this town evolved with the rains- its arrivals and departures, its rhythms and durations. Sometimes when it would be gusty and windy, children had fun holding onto their umbrellas and when it was almost misty, families flocked around the hearths filled with burning coal. If you watched from a distance, all you saw were huddled groups of happy faces glowing.... The constant rains made small rivulets along the red coloured mud sidewalks. Legend has it that the giant mountains brought the rains and the rains washed the red colored mud from the mountains which made such vermillion streaks along the slippery, winding roads.

Since she could remember, the little girl had heard about the legend and she had a mad desire to follow the rains all the way across the mountains and to the sea, where they say, every rain droplet was born. But she couldn't...her mother forbade her the trip for she was always so hot and flushed. The old man with the black bag, who visited her every sunday, always made her stay at home. She hated him. So one day when her mother was attending the vegetable garden in their backyard, she sneaked out. It was a drizzling lightly and when the rains touched her flushing skin, it felt cool and soothingly refreshing. She looked up and could almost touch the clouds..they floated so near. She followed the red coloured rivulet and started walking away towards the giant mountains till you couldn't make out her small form in the mist.

The monotonous sonorous voice of the professor lecturing for the better part of the last hour on the civilisation that perished, for lack of rainfall over a period of some two hundred year, had transported her beyond the mossy, grey walls of the old classroom. Where was this civilisation again? She was sure that the professor had mentioned this place several times...but for some reason she thought it had to be in Cambodia, where fireflies break the darkness of tropical rainforests and farmers with rainwater dripping from their wide straw hats, tend to the rolling acres of lush green paddy fields on the sprawling mountain terraces. It stirred in her a fond memory. It surely could never have been dry. The legends had gotten it all wrong. She caught a reflection of her smile on the dusty window pane in front of her.

Outside grey cumulous clouds were building up. The city was in for the first of the summer rains. How she wanted to be outside...feel those first, few big raindrops on her palm and the smell of first rains drenching the heated summer soil, teasing her senses. Soon it would be coming down in torrents drenching the whole city, cleaning all the dirt and washing it in sidewalk rivulets. Traffic would come to a standstill..and people returning home inside the cramped city buses would look out desperately to see if there was any hope of traffic clearing in a short time. But, their vision would be clouded by the raindrops that hung from the rusty window frames of the old city buses and seemed to cling on.. for what seemed forever..
She woke from her reverie and saw that there were streaks of rainwater slowly washing the summer dust away from the window pane..

He saw her. She looked a little lost from where he was standing. He was trying to get his umbrella to open up before going out. It was cold and he shuddered at the thought of getting even slightly wet. The raindrops would be like needles piercing even his thick winter jacket. How on earth did he land in this university town which could only be as cold and so damp. With his credentials he could have easily gone to more sunnier places..but somehow luck would have him transported here and nowhere. Somehow, right now all that did not seem to bother him so much. He tried hard to focus on her face inside the window pane in the ugly grey building just across the small, slightly rain drenched, slippery road. But his own breath mixed with the cold mist clouded his vision and he was forced to take off his glasses. At least, now he could see her face, although a bit blurred. And what attracted him were a pair of big black eyes in a rather smallish face. He smiled without thinking.

She was strolling along the embankment. A slim woman who wore her hair long and rather limp so that the stresses caressed her small face. From time to time she would try in vain to remove those unkempt strands from her face. Her long skirt was wet and clung to her ankles. At times, she bent down and tried to free hreself a bit. And it was during one such moment she looked back. And through the rain she found him walking towards her. She had been waiting for him for what seemed forever. Was it such an awfully long a time since that day in front of the library where they had first met? He had been finishing up his work and had strolled upto her to ask her if she cared to join him for coffee. She had found that funny. For she had watched him concentrate on his book for the better part of an hour.

They were holidaying in the Mediterranean. She had been chasing the rains through the cold beaches, and the wet flower markets that smelled of honeysuckle and moss. And for the rest of their time they sat under a shelter with the misty wind on their face, talking of the lovely times they had spent over the last..what seven days?...in Spain..
After all ..she had chased the rains to Spain. Not away..."

I hope..