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When It Rains



Back in grade school, I remember anticipating the golden voice of the radio announcer at 5:00am, especially during the monsoon period. The declaration of “no classes” would instantly send me back to bed and off to dreamland. 


I have developed a strong liking for the rain since then. Amidst the sweltering tropical weather, rain is a welcome respite that can be both calming and rejuvenating. It is the only time that I get to layer my clothing close to the way the Korean Fall/Winter collections look. It is the only season where wearing leggings in its various incarnations is sartorially tolerable. Suede boots and pseudo-trench coats may cause a cringe or two but they are catching up pretty fast. 

Blame it on globalization that has made it accessible, hence prone to abuse. And whether you are a trendsetter or a fashion slave, the umbrella remains the ultimate accessory. I must admit that I carry a mini umbrella in my bag wherever I go. It has become my source of comfort the way that a piping hot champorado (chocolate porridge) eases my worries away. I believe that the rain brings about that, a quiet feeling of warmth and relief that makes one serene and sentimental. I cannot count how many romantic movies I have watched where a couple runs under the rain, professes their undying love for one another, and exchanges a passionate kiss until the scene fades or pans up. (Not necessarily in that order.) It is a clichéd formula yet its magic never fails to capture my wandering thoughts. 

The element of rain adds that much needed drama, nostalgia and overall fuzzy feeling that all hopeless romantics anticipate. And then we fall in love all over again. In reality though, running under the rain could be exciting or troublesome depending on how you look at it. I did experience running umbrella-less a few times before. 

One time, the storm’s heavy downpour sounded like corn pellets being thrown onto the ground. But once I took shelter, I noticed how such a chorus made every other sound switch to mute. And ironically, every loud tap of the rain became my soothing rhythm. Never mind the drenched clothes, migrating mascara (well, not all water-proof brands are reliable) and soaked up shoes. I felt safe. As I write this, there’s a drizzle outside my window. 

It is music to my ears. I will probably laze around for a few more minutes, make that instant champorado mix that has been calling my attention since I first typed the word here, and snuggle back to bed. But then again, maybe I’ll just watch that Dear John movie for the nth time and wait for the romance-under-the-rain sequence. Rain, rain, please don’t go away. When it rains, I feel reassured. The author longs for that fine rainy day when a cute guy would take shelter under her umbrella. She remains to be a hopeless romantic.




► About the Author:
The author is still trying to improve on her Mandarin skills. The Pinyin words used here are based on how she pronounces them, thus their spelling may not be accurate. Grace Under Pressure features the author's real experiences, both mundane and otherwise, when she was still based in Singapore as an OFW.
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About the Author: Grace Under Pressure features the author's real experiences, both mundane and otherwise, when she was still based in Singapore as an OFW.

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