I look out my window from the second floor and am struck by the way the streetlights dance on the sidewalk.

It’s half past six, and it’s dark and cold outside.
The rains have come down nonstop since one o’clock, alternating in rhythm, but constant nevertheless. Outside, people wear raincoats, rainboots, and grim expressions. Everyone has their head down, either avoiding eyes or puddles.

I glance at my own pair of rubber-soled rainboots lying by the door, and I wonder what happens to the water when they dry up.

I wonder where the people outside are going, or where they’re coming from. I wonder if they ever jump into puddles like I do, or if they ever look up at the clouds once in a while and smile to themselves. I wonder if they notice that the leaves on the trees and the blades of grass look greener on cloudy and rainy days. I wonder if they notice the way the earth smells after it rains: like it has taken a great big breath of air after witnessing something truly magnificent.

I look back out the window and notice the way the asphalt shines when headlights hit it. I see the bobbing of umbrellas up and down the street, all moving with individual purpose. Some umbrellas move faster than others, some spin around, some have spots and stripes, and some are solid colours. They march around like little colourful ants, brightening up the day for all those who can see them from above.

I think ants are really cool. I mean, think about it: they can lift things much heavier than them, work together towards something bigger than themselves (their colony), are selfless, and are rather feisty sometimes too.

When you’re an ant, you only see the world directly in front of you. There is no telling what the bigger picture is if you don’t have the time (or vantage point) to see it. Head down, but antennae up is how you navigate the forests of your world. You’re hardworking, you little ant you, and it pays off sometimes. Sure, there are times when the rains might try to drown you, but hey! You should never forget that you know how to swim, even as tiny as you think yourself to be.
It’s easy to give up hope sometimes, especially when you’re too small to see the big picture, but someone’s always looking out for you, even when you feel the opposite is true.

So carry on, little ant, go on your merry way. I know you’re too busy to watch the sidewalks dance today, but trust me whenever I say that everything’s going to be okay.

Yes, I like rhymes.


Listening Suggestion: Secrets by One Republic
Why? The reason I picked this song is because it’s beautiful to listen to when it rains. The opening takes your hand and pulls you into the story; the tug of the bow on the strings tugs at my heartstrings and the subject matter is universal.

Reading Suggestion: The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky
Why? This book and I have a funny story together (no pun intended). I had wanted to read this book for the longest time, but it always escaped my grasp some way or the other. Then, two very special people in my life suggested the book to me within the same year, and one of them actually gave me her copy of the book. I read it just after Christmas last year, and it sits on my desk as a favourite. The protagonist, Charlie, is amiable, very relatable, and heartwarming in his own little ways, and the book is written simply yet with a depth that resonates long after the final chapter.


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