Happy Rain

This was probably one of the first English rhymes I learnt as a child. The monsoon rain would pelt heavily outside the nursery and everything becomes rhythmical in the sheltered world of a child. Rubbing my hands over fogged windowpanes, I would peer outside whilst synchronised voices behind me echo repetitions of the rhyme.

Whenever it rains, the sound of falling rain reminds me of the deafening pattering of rain on zinc rooftops. So loud, that we had to raise our voices above the din to hear ourselves.

Nowadays, I confuse rain with my memories. When it happens, I find myself drawn to it. Rain beckons me. Consumes me with a carousal of visual images. The feeling of wet rain on dry skin gives me a tingling sensation. Like rebirth. A past is washed away.



The series of photographs “Happy Rain” depict movements of coloured umbrellas. A perception that rain does not necessarily mean staying indoors with grey skies and bad weather.

Rain can lead to opportunities of catching people going about their daily lives set within vibrant colours, oblivious to the wetness that surrounds them.

Rain can be fun. If we could switch our minds and take a moment as an observer, to look at the happy side of Life when the weather is bad.