basketball in the rain

Sometimes, memories are all that is left of happy days, when the world was unencumbered by expectations, when life flowed from one day to the next, when crushes and blushes bloomed, when you were drunk with the possibilities of things to come...

How carefree we were - bunked classes, staying up nights reading M&B and lusting for the forbidden fruit, of adda fuelled by lebu-cha, the mindless chatters, the endless ribbing, those nights at the library mugging up before the semester, the off-tune rendering of 'truly, madly, deeply do', those games of basketball.

When it rains, i remember that evening. When the skies opened up and everyone scurried for shelter, and we braved the rain and carried on playing. Drenched to the bones. With the lighting lighting up the dark night, with the thunder applauding. When our sweat mingled with the rain drops.

i no longer play basketball. i cannot remember the last time i intentionally got myself drenched in the rain. But i still have the memories etched in my mind, like scars of wounds sustained long ago.