When I was around ten years old, I had developed an immense fear of rains.
I lived in a hostel, and the hostel warden had set strict rules against going out in the rain, even for a minute, even for 10 seconds. No stepping out in the courtyard when it was raining. For we could catch a cough, and fever, and pneumonia, and whatnot. I saw some of my friends getting a fever and being scolded for getting into the rain. Once I was myself subjected to it. And thus, I developed this fear, based on evidence.
With time, I forgot how I used to enjoy rains. When I was much younger, living in my village, I used to love it when it rained. I would sneak out, run around and bath. I would jump in mud; I would run around houses. I would come below the drainpipe of roofs of concrete houses and enjoy the stream of water falling on my head. I would love every beat of that stream striking my body, like it was a waterfall, like it was a game, like it was an eternal gift of nature. Often, I would go a step further and jump into the fields logged with water and mud and catch snails and fish, in the rain. Sometimes I would slip and fall and get bathed in mud. I would stand up and continue my trail. But all this had become a thing of long-forgotten past. I couldn’t even imagine doing them now.
As time passed, the fear turned to reality. I started getting sick whenever I stepped out in the rain. I would know that I’m going to get a fever when I got wet in the rain. If I was sitting on the back of the bike and my dad was riding it, if there were rain, I would cry to stop the bike and hide. If I was caught unaware in a market in the rain, I could wait in a shop for hours for it to stop.
But every such fear has a climax.
I remember the day, and it was Rakshabandhan, I was at my mom’s place. As usual, there was a huge fair in the town in the evening. I went with mom and all others in the family to the fair. I loved the rides; I loved the jalebi. I also got the balloon I wanted. Suddenly it started getting dark in the sky, less because of the approaching night, more because of the black clouds. Thunder struck, both in the sky and in me. I started requesting mom to get back to home immediately. But the big family had things to purchase at the make-up stores and had to eat panipuri on the corner stalls, as fast as they could.
As we headed back, it started raining. It was around one kilometer of distance, and we had to walk. As the rain dripped, and my head got wet, I knew I was going to fall sick. But the rain was heavier. It drenched us bottoms up — all of us. But the surprise was, only I fell sick as we reached home. One hundred and three degrees on the thermometer the next morning.
All pissed off, I shouted, “I knew I was going to fall sick.”
My mom is my mom. She took me in her arms and told, “you fell sick because you knew you would fall sick.”
I remember, her words struck my head like a bullet. I couldn’t believe what she said.
She exclaimed, “just two years in hostels, and you forgot how you used to run around in the rain!”
As I tried to remember, she continued, “if you fear as little a thing as a rain like this, how will you face bigger things?”.
Even though this is her favorite punchline, and I’ve heard this uncountable number of times from her mouth, it is this occasion that has been the most significant one in my life. It touched my soul. It changed me inside-out.
I forgot to fear, first the rain, and then many other such things.
It took time for my body to adjust back, but I trained myself. Whenever it used to rain, I would slip the eyes of the hostel warden and get on the roof and love how the sky looked as it was struck with lightning. I started loving the sound of the clouds cracking.
Though with ups and downs, I adjusted with reality, the crux of this learning stays with me. Never fear something so much that it starts to overpower you. More often than not, difficult things distance themselves from you if you are brave enough to face them.
***
Published in Bits, Bytes & Bakar magazine of LitClub - The Literature Club of IIM Bangalore, in the September 2019 Edition - Monsoon Musings
I lived in a hostel, and the hostel warden had set strict rules against going out in the rain, even for a minute, even for 10 seconds. No stepping out in the courtyard when it was raining. For we could catch a cough, and fever, and pneumonia, and whatnot. I saw some of my friends getting a fever and being scolded for getting into the rain. Once I was myself subjected to it. And thus, I developed this fear, based on evidence.
As time passed, the fear turned to reality. I started getting sick whenever I stepped out in the rain. I would know that I’m going to get a fever when I got wet in the rain. If I was sitting on the back of the bike and my dad was riding it, if there were rain, I would cry to stop the bike and hide. If I was caught unaware in a market in the rain, I could wait in a shop for hours for it to stop.
But every such fear has a climax.
I remember the day, and it was Rakshabandhan, I was at my mom’s place. As usual, there was a huge fair in the town in the evening. I went with mom and all others in the family to the fair. I loved the rides; I loved the jalebi. I also got the balloon I wanted. Suddenly it started getting dark in the sky, less because of the approaching night, more because of the black clouds. Thunder struck, both in the sky and in me. I started requesting mom to get back to home immediately. But the big family had things to purchase at the make-up stores and had to eat panipuri on the corner stalls, as fast as they could.
As we headed back, it started raining. It was around one kilometer of distance, and we had to walk. As the rain dripped, and my head got wet, I knew I was going to fall sick. But the rain was heavier. It drenched us bottoms up — all of us. But the surprise was, only I fell sick as we reached home. One hundred and three degrees on the thermometer the next morning.
All pissed off, I shouted, “I knew I was going to fall sick.”
My mom is my mom. She took me in her arms and told, “you fell sick because you knew you would fall sick.”
I remember, her words struck my head like a bullet. I couldn’t believe what she said.
She exclaimed, “just two years in hostels, and you forgot how you used to run around in the rain!”
As I tried to remember, she continued, “if you fear as little a thing as a rain like this, how will you face bigger things?”.
Even though this is her favorite punchline, and I’ve heard this uncountable number of times from her mouth, it is this occasion that has been the most significant one in my life. It touched my soul. It changed me inside-out.
I forgot to fear, first the rain, and then many other such things.
It took time for my body to adjust back, but I trained myself. Whenever it used to rain, I would slip the eyes of the hostel warden and get on the roof and love how the sky looked as it was struck with lightning. I started loving the sound of the clouds cracking.
Though with ups and downs, I adjusted with reality, the crux of this learning stays with me. Never fear something so much that it starts to overpower you. More often than not, difficult things distance themselves from you if you are brave enough to face them.
***
Published in Bits, Bytes & Bakar magazine of LitClub - The Literature Club of IIM Bangalore, in the September 2019 Edition - Monsoon Musings
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