Tuesday, 10 July 2012

The most perfect moment of my existence.

It had been days of merciless, sweat-breaking heat; it was the excited voice of one of the women that broke through my concentration at work, "Bishti, bishti!"
My heart leapt - finally.

I ran outside to the balcony, plunging my hand into the crying sky, exclaiming my excitement with bursts of laughter. All around me others were doing the same, and we all shared the same smile with each other, lit with bright eyes.

My feet hurriedly carried me down a flight of stairs to the open courtyard in the centre of our building, and childlike again, I laughed, splashed, and clapped in the soothing rain's heavy tears. (Think Bollywood classic rain-dance scene).

Hearing pearls of piercing laughter behind me, I turned to see the faces of tiny humans, faces pressed against the bars to their creche. We ran to them, lifted them into the air, and led them into the presence of the rain, watching their expressions contort in mixed emotions; first the shock of the cold, then the smiles that split their faces in two from ear-to-ear, with an escaped giggle or scream here and there.

One of the girls immediately made herself comfortable in my arms once her feet had left the ground. She wound one arm around me to play with my hair, the the other hung by her side, and at times would hold my own arm. Her hed nestled into the hollow of my neck and shoulder, and I stood there, swaying in the rain, humming a tune I don't know, and closed my eyes, with her enjoying the cold against her bare back.

Holding my arm against her skin, it continued to shock me just how pale I have become since being here; I have taken every step to stay out of the sun (due to the heat), so I have become almost transparent, I swear!

From time to time she would lift her head right back, looking straight up into the path of the droplets of water, her smile frozen on her face, and I just stood in awe at the simplicity of her excitement. Rain back home would rarely cause this expression. For a split second she would make eye contact, grin, then continue her silent wonder at the falling sky, her bottom lip beginning to quiver from the cold.

The cracking sound of head-meets-concrete brought us all back to reality; one of the little boys was too excited, running around, and learned the consequences of gravity. His cries of pain caused a slight anxiety at first among us, but then we all couldn't help giggling, surrounding him, and smothering him in a thousand kisses.

Leaving the children to slide, splash, and squeal, I let my feet again traipse back up the stairs, and into my office, where I stared momentarily at my computer, and wondered, "Did that just happen?"


1 comment:

  1. Just letting you know that I love your blog and I nominated you for a liebster award.
    Here's the post with the questions and rules