I never really could decide if they were lying in the movies when the actors or actresses spoke about their love for rain. I do remember as if I just watched yesterday the line “God is in the rain” from V forVendetta ,which I watched several times after a dearest friend of mine introduced me to it. “Why shouldn’t God be in the rain?” I questioned myself. If there is any way he connects with the souls on earth it should be rain I thought but unfortunately now, my agnostic mind denies compromising with that thought. It dint matter if God had to do anything with it but I definitely felt blessed when the water droplets would fall on my cheek, my fore head, my chin and my closed eyelids. I kept walking stamping the grass with my shoes, shoes which were already soaked so much that if I were to make wet footprints on a dry floor I would cover a mile before they dried up. As I walked by I cannot help notice the wet grass shooting back into the position after my foot lifted from their face. “Its nature showing rebellion” I quoted to myself and kept waking. I wondered how it would have been if the flora could speak. The earth would be filled with sound of their pain for the amount of exploitation they faced through time. The grass seemed darker after my every step as if I bleed them in green. I always dreamed of walking over a plain of grass, like the wallpaper one on my Windows desktop. Grass as far as I can see, exposed to sun, wind and water. Take rest under the blanket of countless stars which unlike humans are always there with you and never fail to show up even if you need them or do not need them. One of my best friends loves stars; the stars remind me of him. Even the rain reminds me of someone else, someone who was once very close to me but like a dream those moments did not last very long even though the memories are still left like the stains always used to get on my new shirts. I was always criticized for getting them; I did not like it then. I like it now.
The walk on grass was to end soon as my eyes spotted the cement trail few feet ahead of me. Like the unnoticeable motion of earth’s rotation I changed my path and before I knew I left the grass behind. I could see the trail of my steps on the grass. I knew they wouldn’t preserve them forever and after all why should they? I was the one who walked away from them, they will remain. I could see no trace of life on the cement I was walking on. The lively, agile and blissful path suddenly became Inanimate, arid, and stodgy. I do not blame it on the pavement or the placement of it to interrupt my walk on grass but I cannot help myself blame the world on how it has evolved or created (was not in a mood for the debate once again). It was one of my least concerns today, even though it is not so on many of my insomniac nights. It dint bother me if the world was created or evolved as I knew that none of them would settle my restlessness arising due to the world interrupting with nature of which the cement trail I was walking on was the perfect example. But why would I care to fight the world? I have my own battle to fight first even though I know that avoiding the defeat is inevitable.
I continued my walk and it was getting dark but unlike my childhood I wasn’t afraid now, not because that I have grown up but because I was sure that the lights here would never turn off, may be for a split second but apart from that I feel like I can never experience the night sky as I did when I went on a excursion trip during school. While we were coming back around midnight the bus had to stop in middle of nowhere for children to relax their feet (I.m kidding it was to pee) and my body was swirling in the nostalgic memories of the night sky which left me awestruck when I took notice of the innumerable white dots in the sky. I wanted to stare forever but like many other wishes of a young mind this though was trampled by the horn of the school bus which was about to leave. The horn blew again, this time the sound did not come from my memories but from the car which passed just inches in front of me. Lost in my thoughts I did not realize that I was at the end of the trail and had to cross a street. The traffic was not so much today, I thought about the road in front of me, silently watching me, awaiting my footsteps and anticipating my journey across it. It has been there before me and it will be there after me, its life has seen many people and vehicles pass over it, stamp it and even crash on it. It stays there silently and watches everything. The history gets recorded in that lifeless soul. I was close to my destiny, well at least the one I was heading towards now but I do not dare to wonder how far I was from my destiny of life, if I am on the right track, or do I even need one. I choose to claim my end as my destiny after all that is where I will arrive no matter how I must resist. I did not want to be immortal and I knew that like my footprints on the wet grass, memories of me in everyone will cease to exist but I am not afraid of that as I know that those memories have had their time.
I was about to end my walk, a journey of less than a mile which made me feel more exhausted than a mule which finished its trip around the town carrying the burden of his heartless master and cursing its life for the situation it was in. There was a time I used to think very deep about the suffering of such creatures but since the time I started hearing that there is a ‘plan’ behind everything I left it to the planner to bear the emotional distress arising from such sights. It was quite a walk, maybe not, or maybe the walk is completely a product of my wandering imagination. May be my last sentence was completely false. I do not care much now if I really took the walk but I do care about me being able to be anywhere in the world and being able to experience the walk.