Once upon a rainy time

It is quite wonderful to sit in a taxi and look at the red brake lights of the cars blinking through the water droplets on the windshield. The peace and quiet that envelopes you is interrupted only by the wakeful snores of the taxi driver. And then suddenly over the bridge, I see the storm brewing at the horizon and that along with the wind in your hair brings to your heart a vague feeling of exhilaration. And then it starts. It rains cats and dogs and other species of domesticated animals. The sound of the raindrops thrashing against the road and the mist against my skin makes me happy that I chose to get out of office early today. Now I can attend calls from pesky colleagues and answer them with a, “ Hello? Hellllooo? I am out in the rain, will call when it stops.” You can actually expect them to understand. And so, I have the rest of the evening to myself and whomever I chose to spend it with. That’s when I make a call. “ Meet me downstairs.”
And sure enough when I get home, there she is waiting for me, a jacket in hand and an excited expression on face. We put on our jackets, hold on to our umbrellas, wrap our precious cell phones in a plastic bag. Thus fortified, we trudge through the rain as fast as we can. Somewhere in this rain, I hear a racket. I turn back to see a fire truck rushing to some place and suddenly I just can’t stop laughing. She looks at me with a puzzled expression, then catches sight of what I have seen and doubles up in laughter. And right there, the two of us, laughing like idiots in the middle of the road, we completely understand each other.
With all the wrestling with our umbrellas, we reach the beach quicker than I anticipated. There is thunder and lightning in the air. As we make our way through the wet sand, I find the most perfect looking seashell. We go down to the sea and stand for a while looking at our own shadows. The wind makes the umbrellas useless; water is running down our backs now. Slowly we see the tide is coming back up. So we scamper back up the rocks and on to the beach and run around for a bit. Then when we are tired and completely soaked, we sit down for a while and hunt for seashells. It is here I wonder, if I will feel so blissfully happy ever again.
Slowly the rains subside. Suddenly I have a feeling that we are intruding on the couple sitting a few feet away from us. Or that they are intruding on our time. We get up, shake off the sand and start for home. And somewhere in the middle of the long walk back home and the race up the stairs, it struck me that life is truly a beautiful thing, and it will give me chances to be this happy again and again till eternity. And when I feel the warm floor beneath my feet, I realize that all that’s left of this is experience is a seashell and the memory of her smile.