The storm that I spoke of in the previous blog post was no joke. It was real, it came, it conquered, it left, leaving in its wake clogged gutters, Venician streets, and little boys who jumped and dove in the mulch of rainwater mixed with gutter grime.

I’m quite used to it, to be frank. And this particular bout of rain was one of the tamer ones that I’ve seen. Back when I was in Lahore, about fifteen years ago, there was this storm that I remember vividly to this day. The tin roof that served as shade in the balcony of that post-colonial home literally tore off and flew (I think it weighed at least a hundred pounds, at least) off to Kansas along with the rest of the debris. So much rain there had been that the staircase that spun up to the first floor was filled up to fifteen stairs with water and my dad had to lift his motorcycle on his shoulders (the bike weighed more than my dad) and he climbed twenty steps to put it in a safe, dry place. Dad’s a strong one. They don’t make em like that anymore. Dads, I mean.

So when today’s rain brought with it sporadic rivers and manic winds, I knew what I had to do. I took a cup of tea–my sister made it for me–, took Finders Keepers (a book by Stephen King), and went down to the porch and sat under a brick shade (thankfully not tin). It was rather pristine, that whole moment of moments, when I sat and heard that cathartic sound of drops pitter-pattering on concrete, tarmac, metal, and wood. I only got to read ten pages of the book. For the rest of the duration of the rain I closed my eyes and forgot I was in Faisalabad and thought that I was in the Alps, in the Amazonian Rain-forests, in the Alpine highs of northern Pakistan. I closed my eyes and I was at all of those places at once.

It’s been three hours since it stopped raining but the street is still pretty much choked with water. An odd car or motorcycle will come driving slowly, creating waves, and if you looked only at those waves and at nothing else, you’d think you were at a beach.

Smells become quite dominant in the aftermath; there’s a maize factory only 8 blocks away and the air right now smells thickly of corn. It’s a good smell.

Everything’s rainwashed, every leaf greener, the roads when the water will subside will look cleaner.

Thank you Lord for this blessing.

p.s. This picture I took shortly after the rain stopped. Look at those two daredevils riding the waves.