In all of my post-puberty years, and especially in my twenties, nothing else has evoked the kind of emotions in me as rains. Of course, it might have to do something with the way my brain is wired. But I guess, all male brains are wired the same way, so this will apply to all men in general.

Love and rain go a long way back in time. It has helped warring couples patch up as much as it has sparked new relationships. Nothing can take away the fact that its rain alone that is responsible for inspiring love songs and making ordinary people feel equivalent to best poets in the world. I’ve soaked in rains in different countries. But in all cities, it has played the same game of moods with me.

I feel it all depends on time of the day. It’s analogical to the way a man’s feelings and outlook towards a woman undergoes a tumultuous yet unexplained journey during his life.

An early morning rain – the kind of pitter patter sound that wakes you up on a breezy and moist morning – reminds me of a teenager’s first crush. All the necessary elements of your first love are right here. This kind of rain is enough to convert an atheist into a believer. It sets your mood for the day and is powerful enough to pull you out of stress and depression of the previous day – something which even a good night’s sleep is unable to do! This type of shower is akin to that pure and virginal feeling which reminds me of the spontaneous proverbial first kiss and the automatic holding of hands where in fingers somehow magically find the gaps and clasp together in an eternal grip.

On the other hand, a sudden refreshing downpour which comes un-announced amongst a backdrop of a balmy late afternoon or early evening sky is akin to the start of one’s first serious relationship in life. It plays with you, teasing you with its naughty speed and runs a chill down your spine, much the same way as one would get during flirting. An accompanying rush of adrenaline and racing heartbeat provides the perfect backdrop. That varying speed and haphazard direction of drops reminds me of wet hair of this beautiful girl flapping on her face, swept back behind her ears ever so often by those tender fingers. Much like an adventurous and unabashed girl exploring her new-found sexuality, this rain takes on a controversial as well as a sober role with the flick of a switch.

Rains set against the dead of night are nothing short of black magic. Sinister, eerie and mysterious. It conjures up weird dreams and connotations and wants me to get in my car and go for a long drive with no planned route or destination. Who in the right mind would want to sleep through such a beautiful moment in time? I’d give anything to have the power to summon rains at midnight and sit at my window with a bottle of single malt and psychedelic trance playing on my iPod, while staring into nothingness.

If natural elements had their own zodiac signs, I strongly suspect rain would be a Cancerian. That’s the closest I can think of, given the mood swings and creativity of rains.

I have always shared a love-hate relationship with rains. A heavy downpour set against the backdrop of night sky has made me slump into deep depression for no apparent reason. I’ve cried at times, just listening to the sound of harsh raindrops pelting on the concrete earth. As if its an act of vengeance for love gone sour. Conversely, an early morning shower makes me want jump right back into bed, cuddle up to her and make slow and sweet love for hours at end. It’s difficult to say which kind of rain I like the most. If I wasn’t a rational human dictated by a body clock, I’d happily pick midnight rain as my companion.

I’m sure that if I ever had a mistress, I would probably call her ‘Rain’. Just as a nickname.