Skip to main content

The Man in the Rain

The weather forecast did not get it wrong this time. It was in blissful ignorance and unfounded hope that I had made my way there for a jog. As I stood in the shelter, I could see the dark clouds hovering above the skyscrapers of Johor across the Johor Straits, clouds that produced the intermittent lightning to warn the human inhabitants of the impending torrent. The winds swayed the tress in front of me. Then I noticed that for the Malaysians, threat had turned to attack. It was no longer a question of if, but a question of when.

It started suddenly, as if the clouds on a whim had decided to let go of their contents. Malaysia disappeared from view as the rain hid it away like a curtain.I was stuck in the concrete shelter with a bunch of teenagers, one who had a loudspeaker which blared Malay rock to my annoyance. They were lost in their phones, some smoking away right in front of the 'No Smoking' signs. I waited for my friends to arrive and rescue me, diving my attention between my phone and the downpour in front of me.

Then I saw him in the distance. He was bald, tall and build heavily like a frequent gym goer, in black t-shirt and track pants. He was too far for me to make out his facial features, but I saw him walking steadily, like a WWE wrestler, towards the jetty that jutted out into the straits. He did not have an umbrella and his actions smacked of borderline insanity. But his steadiness symbolised a man who knew what he was doing. I watched him as a walked to the middle of the jetty, undeterred by the rain and unafraid of the flashes of lighting. It was as if nothing mattered to him, as if what was rain and lightning to a man who was going to end it all.

To my disappointment, he did not end it all. Instead he just stood in the middle of the jetty while the rain pelted him ceaselessly. I watched him out of sheer curiosity, wondering what were the sequence of events that would make a man of his stature choose the get wet here in the narrow strip between Singapore and Malaysia, instead of the shower in his gym. Did his girlfriend breakup with him because he had a dry sense of humor? Was he protesting the government's 30% water price hike? Or was he Aquaman?

I would not stay there long enough to find out. My friends would come and rescue me before the rain subsided. I took one last glance at the jetty before he left. He was still there. standing, staring at God knows what.

Yea, he had to be Aquaman. 
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Sparing the Rod

 She gave me a look of deep displeasure, not very atypical of the look most members of the opposite gender gave me. “You know you can’t do that in Germany?”, she asserted with the same authority my mother used to tell me about not messing around in her kitchen.  “Yes I am aware”, I meekly responded, knowing well that any kind of argument about this would not end well, so it was better to close off the topic quietly and unlike the kitchen, I could not afford to get kicked out of Germany. She was not the first to respond with such hostility to what seemed like the most natural of things in my experience. The last one who told me the same was a teacher I had met at a party. When she sounded shocked that I was ok with it and said it was not right, I (with some alcoholic courage) had retorted, “How would you discipline them then if they do something wrong?” “I would tell them I am very disappointed with them”. I almost laughed. However, that was very much the theory of my new frien...
Post a Comment
Read more

An Eye for an Eye

"Something that three or four years ago you told me was one of the touchstones of maturity: being nice to people even when they’re not nice to you…" - William Styron It was an plan that came out of nowhere. Perhaps half depressed by the winter and half depressed by the inactivity at work, there was sufficient turmoil in the mind to create these type of plans and then let it fester, until something that started off with a what-if turned into a why-not. It would have been the perfect revenge for the past hurt and humiliation that was yet to completely heal.  The circumstances were similar. On one side, an eager visitor who had traveled far to say "Hello" and on the other side, a host, bewildered and surprised by this visit. In the first case, the host would not receive the visitor, who would turn back humiliated and vowing never again. Now the roles were reversed and I was the host. What if I agreed to receive? What if in reality I did not plan to receive? ...
Post a Comment
Read more

An Ode to Marriage

I remember pondering about the need for marriage during a certain period of my life. Partially inspired by stoicism, I saw a man as an island in a big ocean, continuously being battered by the waves and storms, but holding fort and growing strong with each test. It was also when the idea of monasticism greatly appealed to me, to leave behind, for the lack of a better work, the bullshit of society and trying to attain enlightenment.  Somehow that idea fell apart after a brief meditation stint in a monastery, but the idea of marriage I resisted. The freedom that came from being single seemed too precious to let go. Furthermore life was complicated as it is. Why complicate it further by introducing another person to that life, someone who would bring her own mannerisms, rules, habits, many that might end up conflicting with your own. However, a lot of these ideas and beliefs start to die when friends of yours each start getting into their own relationships and have no more time for yo...
Post a Comment
Read more