Rain in the Garden

               

                 Kids are stupid. And more so, when infants. The onset of shrill cries and mid night cracks of deep sleep marks the beginning to a perpetual cycle of hysteria. Then there is time that you need to devote to their well-being. ‘Spending time’ doing essentially nothing productive with them. In the beginning it seems an interim strain, but like a weed they turn to toddlers and start with the one most forbidden task in the life of ‘normal’ humans – exploring.

                They are never satisfied with what they are provided, may it be the luxuries that most don’t dare dream of! They want to know how things work; who does that in the modern world? Would anyone bother question the working of winds and the sun, when they sit comfortably inside their air conditioned rooms, on their cosy sofa? Chintzy behaviours, raw calls or simply the motive to break society-formulated rules drive these little devils.

                And exasperating of them all, is the will to be free; to not understand the self-made-inexplicable-laws formulated by man; to just be of plain heart. And so said, forget understanding the enigmatic world of toddlers, Mr. Peterson could hardly take out time to be with his thirteen month old son. Mr. Peterson was a businessman who kept travelling all across the country erratically to keep his industry running, which was mostly manufacturing plastic bottles and jute rags. Extreme competition and advancement in machinery had heavily declined his obsolete working strategies. Summer was the hottest in the past six years, and his sales were the lowest consecutively. Loans were rising by the day and income declining.

                Yet, with decadent spirit still, he sat on the porch, researching ideas to overcome the eccentricity, on his laptop. It was hot in the morning when the family had their breakfast looking out to the garden, but by now, a dark stratonimbus had rolled in and strong winds blew all over the place. Forecasters had predicted the arrival of monsoon sometime this week. And not to anyone’s surprize, heavy plops of rain poured into the dry ground. “God!” screamed Mr. Peterson as he saved his laptop from the splashes. A crashing sound of thunder and the internet connectivity of the place was dead.

                He buried his face into his palms and sat there until he heard his son giggle. It was Zooey – Mr Peterson’s wife – carrying Brian – her son - standing under the porch roof not far away. She looked at him and smiled; Brian imitated her. She pointed out to the rain that had grown gentler and Brian giggled harder. He knew something different was about to happen. Now there was something peculiar about Brian. In three hours of being born, Brian was diagnosed with pneumonia, susceptible to the bacteria at birth. It was a jittering moment for the parents. He was cured however in the following days by the doctor’s experience or by God’s consent as Zooey believed.

                Nevertheless, they were advised to keep him away from cold environments and cold water for at least a month. But Zooey, being overly protective, kept him warm all throughout. He was well fed, well dressed and well-kept overall. And Zooey stood out today with a notorious smile she didn’t take trouble hiding. With quick, light steps, she ran out to the center of the garden as Brian screamed in joy. It was his first experience with rain, and oh, how beautiful it was! He looked up and looked down and all around to understand what it was! Cool, tiny droplets striking the body everywhere simultaneously provoked infinite expressions on his face. Drops ran down thin brown hair across soft white cheeks and fell on his small white Tee shirt. He covered his head with his tiny hands, laughing all the way. His voice ranged from low laughs articulating ‘Woah!!’ to shrill cries of ‘Aeee’, dominated mostly by fitful giggles that travelled all around the house.

                Zooey quickly ran back to the safety of the roof and how madly did they both laugh staring at each other. The moment seemed endless as Jim – Mr Peterson – stood up and walked to them. Brian patted his father’s cheek and laughed as he had been laughing. Jim gave out a puff of air and laughed as hard as he could. The moment froze in their minds.