Heart to The Rain

If there is one thing to stay the same. It is my heart to the rain that's left unchanged.

When I was in high school, I lived in a city where the ground was never drought. There were months when evening was the moment to decide whether to stay at school longer or just go home as soon as possible before the rain catch me. To be honest, my favorite one was waiting for the rain to stop. I don't mind waiting for it, one minute, ten minutes, one hour, two hours. The moments were beautiful evenings, looking through the window of the mushalla. Seeing the raindrops fell from the untracked path in the sky to the pavements where I used to spend most of the days observing people from afar. To observe the raindrops falling from that height, level two of the mushalla, gave me such a fresh feeling. I watch them, fresh and thin, falling from the gray containers up above, almost unseen, and suddenly they broke into the ground, blooming with a little resonance on the water. It is as if the sky could no longer bear the heavy weight it contained and the ground accepted it with merriment.

To feel the rain is to observe what it has to offer. As for me to feel the rain feels like hearing nature's siren. The sound it makes upon the ground, a symphony of peace surrounds. A beautiful rhythm only nature can speak. I feel at ease as the drips and drops upon my face. I let it pour. One thing that passed through my mind was always "I want to melt into the rain, I wanna spend some more time walking in the rain, just merge with them". In most cases nope, turned out I didn't because of my laptop.

Magically speaking, there is something about rain in Melbourne, that's so exquisite. The droplets were like tiny particles flying around the sky, almost like snowdrops. The rhythm is slow as if the drop wants to wander every bit of the air before being sent to the ground. No, it doesn't refuse to fall. It's just enjoying the time left to stay ungrounded. There's no nature's siren, but I enjoy hearing the toll of the trams as they ring, calling people to gather around, in tune with the dropping snowy rain on the canopy. It just flies and flies, wanders and wanders, no rush, nor hustle. It brings peace amidst the strain

Even the skyscrapers enjoy the rain, so much, their heads are above the clouds. You barely see lights from the apartment unit above 16 as they are flooded with clouds. I wonder what it feels like to live on level 33 (probably). How anxious it is to feel like flying above the raging sky. It's like you see nothing but fast-moving clouds, probably feels like your unit flies and travels the world, until the time you come back, you are back again in Melbourne. My brain would have been frozen.

Another thing I love about raining in Melbourne is the vivid atmosphere. The drip marks make everything brighter and magnificent. They reflect every light I see. Everything feels alive and luminous. Like they create additional lamps everywhere without needing to pay for more installations and bills. The atmosphere radiates a breeze but the lights heat it out. The lights are in tune with people's footsteps. Bustling around the city, can't wait to enjoy the warmth of home. Neither can I.  Not to mention, the vividness it brings to living things. It feeds trillions (or another -lions) organisms. From the tiny bacteria to the giant whale, although I haven't seen one here. At least, I can see that the trees are cured from their thirst. The dripping water from the leaves marks its contentment on water from the sky, "Brrrrrrr", as they might say, as fresh as the morning dew.

To think about it, no wonder rain has been such a special moment our prophet mentioned. It is the mustajab time for du'a. So let me pour my heart out in this pouring rain to pray for You.

🌧 اللّهُمَّ صَيِّـباً نافِـعاً . 'O Allah, may it be a beneficial rain