Sweet April showers do spring May flowers.
The road to Araku Valley was difficult. Araku Valley is a Hill station in Visakhapatnam district in the state of Andhra Pradesh in India. We were in the car, window seats taken and vomiting all the way up the windy road. The children of the locality sold black pepper seeds all the way. The car halted on the side of the hilly roads and I got down to freshen myself. It was a beautiful morning which I had marred with the uneventful mess. My husband, Manish held a bottle in one hand and his DSLR in the other with a frown on his face. Photography was already over for the day. Thanks to me. sigh!. We had been bickering all day.
Next morning, we decided to go out for local sightseeing. We heard about the garden of flowers, a major tourist attraction. Padmapuram, as they called it, is one of the most beautiful places on earth. This is a garden which is very well designed with many interesting nooks and corners . Manish was moving very fast, trying to capture the exquisite flowers while I was at his heels, trying to catch up with his speed. I suddenly fell down. It was a very bad fall and tears welled up in my eyes. Manish didn’t even look back. I felt extremely upset. I cursed myself for taking the day off from work. I started crying.
I felt a hand on my right shoulder. I thought it was Manish. But it wasn’t him. It was a man, wearing an apron and carrying a spade in his fist. He lent out his hand and I caught his. His hands were warm. Mine were cold. I looked up at him.
A drop of water drizzled from his forehead to my lips. It was raining.
His eyes were brown and they sparkled. His broad smile forced a stray smile across my lips. Are you a gardener here?, I asked. He simply shrugged. He pulled me under the shade. I wanted to feel the rain. The rain would help me hide my tears. The rain would wash my sorrows away. The rain would cool my heated mind. The rain would accept me for who I am.
It always rains the hardest on the people who deserve the sun. I thought to myself, I don’t need Manish to keep me happy. I need someone who would make me happy. Manish doesn’t care about me anymore. I went on chirping. I looked at my companion. He was clearly interested in me whereas Manish had completely forgotten about me, it seems. We strolled across the garden, some of the most beautiful and exotic flowers at Padmapuram garden caught our attention. What do you call this flower?, I asked him. He pointed to a billboard saying ‘PINK GERBERA’. I looked at him with skeptical eyes, and asked, Can I ask you something? Can you speak?. He clearly couldn’t. I realized that while I was ramping about my problems to him, only he did was a nod and reciprocate in gestures. I had been ignorant of my companion and my problems seemed massive with respect to his. Maybe this was the problem in our relationship, we became so engrossed with ourselves, we forgot to check what was wrong with the other. I should go, find Manish, I told him. I love him. He nodded.
Manish was sitting on a rock, looking over his camera. He pursed his lips together. I was feeling guilty. I am sorry, I said. He looked at me, You must be sorry, sorry for looking so beautiful! And we burst out laughing. The garden of flowers seemed to look brighter and more colorful than ever. Manish was wearing a black shirt and he looked handsome and fresh, fresh from the showers. Why haven’t I noticed this earlier?.
I was so wrapt up in my issues that I forgot to look at him. The man in the valley taught me a lesson for life. His silence spoke to me when words failed to make me realize how much I needed a little rain in my life. The April brings the winds of change and washes away the heat of the summers to bring about full bloom in MAY flowers.
Some people feel the rain, while others only get wet