Coming back from another run to the neighboring city, we met the rain at the entrance to town. At first just a few scattered specks, and before I knew it, my sunglasses were shrouded. In shorts and a T-shirt sitting in the back of my nephew’s motorbike, I was dusted in the softest raindrops. Every hair on my exposed skin stood up to welcome them. Out of the corner of my eyes, I can see the gray clouds hovering over every corner of the afternoon sky. I knew it was going to be a good one.
Fortunately for us, my cousin’s house is less than a kilometer away. A few of my grandfather’s relatives decided to join us for dinner. We gathered, ate, and said our goodbyes. Seven hours later, the rain continued. And I don’t mean the kind of drawn-out trickling rain. Downpour after downpour, the rain soaked ground gave up its yielding ways. Water poured from every crevice of what was earlier today parched ground. I stayed inside, but my curiosity leaped through the window into the ankle deep layer of water standing in the front yard. It immediately brought me back to childhood, spending these rainy days with my younger brother and the neighborhood kids. We used to run naked through the streets free of obligations, and absent of worries. The cold raindrops on my bare skin always left me with an irreplaceable sensation of purity. I imagined it would be somewhat similar to being baptized, but I wouldn’t know. I’ve only seen it on TV.
We would race through the streets filled with laughter and overflowed with excitement. Sometimes when it rained so hard like it was today, every drop felt like tiny fingers tapping me on the shoulders, urging me to partake in the celebration of typhoon season. Only that today, it is barely the month of January of the lunar calendar year. This kind of downpour at this time is rarely seen. A part of me thought superstitiously, and the other parts reasoned with science. Flowers in the front yard that my aunt has tediously cared for many months before the arrival of the new year seemed to have succumbed to the force of gravity. I lay awake under the tin roof listening to melodious sound of the rain. When I close my eyes, I imagined the sea bringing in a convoy of waves colliding into each other onto shore. The sound I very much embrace, the sound of sleep, and the sound of peace.