The Rain

The rain came after we did the first set of taiji. The group had to retreat to the concourse of the club building and made do with the space between the big screen and the sofa sets laid out for the viewing of the world cup. Moving to a different spot calls for some re-orientation as the taiji movements involve several turns of the body. At the cordorned off section of the car park where we usually practise, landmarks like a tree, a lamp post or the poolside cafe help guide the facing after each turn. Without these landmarks, we can't afford to let our minds drift but have to be conscious of each movement.

Half way through, 3 youths probably in their late teens or early twenties who were earlier on chatting by the poolside stepped into the concourse and lounged themselves on the sofa. One threw his head back on the sofa and stared at the rain pattering on the glass ceiling, another sat and stared at us blankly like a rock whilst the third gazed through us at the rain outside. They were wearing T-shirts that bear a little state flag. They are probably state swimmers waiting for the rain to stop before training commenced.

A little while later, a little mynah hopped in through the glass door left ajar by the boys. It flew a little distance to where the sofa sets were. Finding some crumbs it hopped further and further in and vanished in sight.

The rain disrupted the routine of the above 3 species. It jostled drifters who live the rhythm of life mindlessly to be more aware of each move. It arrested the youngsters and forced them to spend a quiet moment engaging the rain and the slower rhythmic and perhaps incomprehensible world of the older folks. It provided the mynah a chance to venture into a less travelled path to discover some rare finds.


"When shall we three meet again in thunder, lightning, or in rain? When the hurlyburly 's done, When the battle 's lost and won." (Act I, Scene I Macbeth)