Gusts of wind seemed to blow from every possible direction. Rain, which came down hard, therefore didn't merely come down from the skies but from all sides. Driving, which usually is relaxing and fun, was anything but. Streets were flooded.
This is the kind of rain that will make any non-native pack up the bags and head to the dry deserts of Nevada. I, well, am practically a native. An Indian of a different kind living as an American among a few other natives and other Americans!
This evening, it is mostly calm. A gentle breeze, an occasional drizzle. A tad cooler perhaps. But, all in all, it is clear that the weather storm has passed, even as other storms in life continue.
Which is why I thought it is worth it to re-post that wonderful poem by Boris Pasternak:
After the Storm
The air is full of after-thunder freshness,
And everything rejoices and revives.
With the whole outburst of its purple clusters
The lilac drinks the air of paradise.
The gutters overflow; the change of weather
Makes all you see appear alive and new.
Meanwhile the shades of sky are growing lighter,
Beyond the blackest cloud the height is blue.
An artist's hand, with mastery still greater
Wipes dirt and dust off objects in his path.
Reality and life, the past and present,
Emerge transformed out of his colour-bath.
The memory of over half a lifetime
Like swiftly passing thunder dies away.
The century is no more under wardship:
High time to let the future have its say.
It is not revolutions and upheavals
That clear the road to new and better days,
But revelations, lavishness and torments
Of someone's soul, inspired and ablaze.
1958
Translated by Lydia Pasternak Slater (source)
Pasternak is, of course, known to most of us as the creator of Dr. Zhivago. Play that the lovely music from the movie version in the video below, and read the poem all over again. Chances are quite good that you will feel the storms clearing ...
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