Saturday, January 17, 2009

Kiss the rain...

It's been raining here in London for the last 3-4 nights in a row. As I lay awake at odd hours - 2 am, 3.30 am, 4.30 am - I can hear the pitter-patter of the raindrops on my window. Today, it rained much earlier, from about 10.30 pm onward. It reminded me of the rain in Bombay. Only this one was colder and harsher. Almost as if it was reminding me that this is not where I belong. But this is where I want to be... forever? Perhaps. It's 1 am and it's still raining... I'd love to go dancing in the rain. Like Frater, I'd love to chase the monsoon. What is it about the rain and me? It refreshes. It rejuvenates. It gives life. And death. Go on then, kiss the rain. 

So where do I go from here? Back where I came from? Where I belong? No. I don't want to. I like the anonymity of London. Of being the outsider. There's no compulsion to be someone I don't want to. It's a new world. A new freedom... I'm a stranger in the crowd. Like Camu's 'Outsider'. A stranger to himself. Just another brown face in a sea of millions. No, but wait a minute. I'm fair. Mixed identity. What's with the name then? Muslim? Arabic? But the accent is a dead giveaway. I'm no one and everyone. Does it really matter. No. I'll always be a stranger. To myself too.

It's 1.40 am and it's still raining. I'm sleepless. As for you... go on then, kiss the rain.

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