tuwing umuulan…

Buhos na ulan, aking mundo’y lunuring tuluyan
Tulad ng pag-agos mo,
‘Di mapipigil ang puso kong nagliliyab
Pag-ibig ko’y umaapaw,
Damdamin ko’y humihiyaw sa tuwa
Tuwing umuulan at kapiling ka

As I looked outside the office window, I was surprised to see the rain pouring so hard. It must have been raining for several minutes already, but inside this building, you really wouldn’t hear the sound of a pouring rain. I stood up from my office desk, walked into the window, looked at the people squeezing their bodies into the sheds of Ayala, and then just stared at the falling rain. I guess for a while I was just standing and staring. And the rain was comforting.

Many good memories flashed back to me, some specific, some general.

I remembered as a child waking up to the sound of the rain while Dad was listening to the radio to know if classes were suspended. I, on the other hand, was praying hard that it would be. Then, my cousins and I would just watch TV and play all day, sometimes with our Baguio sweaters on (which actually belonged to our parents or grandparents), if it was really that cold. We would play Battle City until Kuyang would impose that all the stars (to upgrade tanks) belong to him. Kuyang, Tootie, and I would fight a lot, but I remembered us loving hanging out with each other (that is, before all the wedding invitations and family life came in). Then, Mommy, or Mama, or Ninang would prepare a hot mami or tsampurado or simply pandesal na isasawsaw sa kape. I miss those days…

Then, in high school, when the rain poured and we were still in school, we would just linger at the corridor and talk about our crushes and the latest chismis, but mostly about the high school romance that preoccupies teenaged life. If there were playing cards around, we would have what seemed like a pusoy dos marathon. If the rain didn’t seem to want to stop, we would run outside and get wet, with our legs sprinkled with mud. And we would all be pretty fine. I miss those days…

Then, in college, when it rained and we were in our tambayan, we would buy beer or gin or whatever, and we would start the tagayan. We would have our ridiculous debates on men and women, or discuss organization issues, or zero-in to the latest love team, perhaps a remnant of the idealism that came from high school romance. But the best of these drinking sessions were all those times we had a guitar. Some good guitar man would play, and all of us would sing along. And then somebody else would take the guitar and play a different medley, and we would all sing along, again. The rain had stopped long before, and we were still drinking and singing our hearts out. I miss those days…

Then, in the previous years, when it rained and I and my good friend eks were at eks’ home, we would have a cup of coffee and 3 pancit canton with sliced boiled eggs, and we would talk just about anything. My favorite part is when we were daydreaming of good lives ahead, and we would excite ourselves with what actually were fictions of our mind. I miss those days…

And whenever I was alone and it rained, I would open the door of my apartment, sit on my inclined chair near the door, drink my coffee, and watch as the rain touches the ground. When satisfied, I would close the door, lay on my bed, cover myself with my favorite brown blanket, and close my eyes. My mind would be empty but not blank, and the sound of the pouring rain would gently put me to sleep. I miss those days…