A Rainy Day Memoir

 

                                                                                                -Moheindu Amiran Chemjong

 

Come rainy days and I’m taken back in time. I remember with tenderness those days of torrential monsoon outside our windowpanes and how I’d be in my sister Lalima’s room, the pink linen, the creamish pink curtains, her miniature figurines, her sheet music all over the place, her piano and the musical talent that she is. How in spite of the harsh rain outside, we’d enjoy ourselves in the comfort of our beautiful home. I’d ask her to play Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, Bach and Chopin over and over again. And then, I’d ask her to strum her piano keys to some songs that were common favourites between the two of us-Edelweiss, Memory, Greenselves and then sing on top of our voices, as if the rain pouring outside those June afternoons would dance to the accompaniment to our music?

 

Time and again, Mommie would interrupt us with the goodies and cream of chicken soup. We’d enjoy our soup as we listened to Papa’s words of wisdom on the dining table. On rainy days, Mommie would disappear into the kitchen to make special stew and bread out of the authentic barley brought from the villages. She never failed to mention how this bread would remind her of her glorious childhood days. At that time, it made no sense to me. Today as I’m enjoying Bach and cream of chicken while typing out my childhood memories  the rain outside is forcing me tread along the memory lane and bring back those glorious days of my childhood to my heart! Today, I marvel at my maturity and the sagacity at which I am capable of cherishing those golden days, maybe Mommie was right after all! And during the course of the rainy days, Papa would wear his navy, woollen hat. He’d check out if Mommie and us, the girls were keeping warm enough and if there was anything he could do to add lustre to our lives on those chilly days. He’d hand us warm jumpers, woollen hats and would cover our backs with those shawls, such a loving Dad he is! Papa would spend his rainy days tucked in his warm bed reading books while my sister and I had the orchestra going on in the background.

 

After Mommie finished her cooking, she would instruct our cook on how to serve the bread and stew and also give the finishing touches! Then my old-fashioned Mommie would gravitate to her study to write her long-pending letters. Perhaps the rain outside touched her and made her outpourings much easier! Her study is always filled with papers, she always has so much to do, and she is always on the go. She would always be helping, embarking on newer journeys; she is the flame that shines brightly in all the lives she touched especially ours. On rainy days, even Lucy, the beloved Daschund would be allowed in. Lucy must have loved those days of rain and thunderstorms for she, too would be inside with us enjoying our expressions of love for her. Lucy would enjoy the comfort of sleeping on our beds when the days were cold and rainy outside. Our parents would not be entertained by this idea but my sister and I couldn’t help dressing her up in our doll clothes and tucking her in bed!

 

Sometimes if there were hailstones, Lalima and I would be sporting our rain-coats and gumboots and would be out in the garden, ecstatic at Nature’s play. We’d scream and laugh in delight as our parents watched their daughters’ childish sense of wonder and delight with so much love and sparkle in their eyes! Lucy, too would be jumping all around the place in the hailstone frenzy. After the pourings of the Monsoon rain at the slightest hint of the rainbow, we’d be again be out in the puddles in gumboots to catch the tadpoles and enjoy the sweet smell of the earth after the rains. When I go through the albums, I can still re-live that magnificent sense of accomplishment we used to feel when we brought those baby frogs at home.

 

As a studious girl at school, I’d also make use of the cool days to mug up the poems, “The Solitary Reaper,” “I Remember, I Remember,” “The Echoing Green.” Today, on rainy days, I sit and write prose but when I think back, I believe I learnt to appreciate the beauty of poetry and started a love affair with the Monsoon on those rain swept days. Our romance never ended! Rainy days still fill me with an extravagant sense of wonder and childlike blissfulness and still helps me rejuvenate the hum drum blues of everyday living.

 

Many years have passed and gone but in my memory, the tunes, the flavours, the feelings, the colours and the perfumes of the rainy days are still as fresh as the crystal rain droplets that are falling outside my windowpane right now. The monsoon provided sabbatical days to all those people working at home, even the gardener, and the chauffeur. My tender heart overflows with nostalgia as I can still remember the sparkle in their eyes when they, too had the luxury of staying indoors all day long, relaxing! Secretly, they must have been thankful to the Gods for the rainy days.

 

On rainy days, Mommie would write those letters as Papa devoured his books and as Lalima and Lucy made music together, I’d look outside, enraptured by Nature’s beauty and I’d sometimes think Que Sera Sera. Today, as I’m listening to the old numbers, reminiscing those rainy days in my childhood, I feel I can still go out in the rain right now, dance and sing on top of my voice with those memories gently playing on my mind, “I could have danced all night, I could have danced all night and still have begged for more. I could have spread my wings and done a thousand things I’ve never done before.”

Such is life, memories are made on rainy days!