"Rain"

He found himself grinning, in spite of the circumstances.

The rain came pouring down suddenly. Perfect cue, he thought. The day was clear moments ago and then – seemingly out of nowhere - heaven's tears. Heaven was bawling, more like it.

Office workers in corporate attires hurried to take shelter, trying to maintain whatever poise and dignity they could manage as they clambered under awnings, entryways, canopies. The austere business center was covered in a blanket of what looked like static-laden television reception.

For what seemed to be slow-passing moments, he stood there at the middle of the unfolding chaos, trying to absorb life's ironic humor. He felt like he was part of a scene in one of the movies he often watches. But he wore the wrong expression on his face. He was grinning. And protagonists do not end up grinning under the rain after chasing the girl but not catching up with her.

But she was not an ordinary, random girl. Not just another pretty face in the crowd who has caught his eye. Far from being so. This was her - the ubiquitous presence in his past and the continual haunting in his present. She who kept a hold on his life long after he had convinced himself that he was free from everything she meant to him. There are days when he believed it, and there are those when he can't. For some reason, that day, he was overwhelmed with a nameless need to approach her. Say hello. See her up close. Maybe even shake her hand, if he felt casual enough.

He wondered how well he could play the part of a grown-up, unflurried by the past shared between the two of them. Besides, it shouldn't be so hard, he reasoned. After all, they have been good friends once before. Before the heartbreaks, tears, and eventual goodbyes. He felt he could manage a nonchalant air. It need not be an awkward situation. He was an adult now; his character, he hoped, has been strengthened by the time and space they spent apart. Maybe enough time has passed for them to reconsider their interrupted friendship.

Fuelled by these optimistic possibilities, he mindlessly paid his fare and got off the cab. And as the screenplay scene called for it, our lead character frantically searched the crowd for her familiar face.

Familiar. Hers will always be a familiar face. At the back of his head, he felt that if he'd lived to meet a thousand more people, her face will never lose its familiarity. He could also recognize her scent anywhere - even in public elevators as it hits him and leaves him reeling from the impact of sudden memories. And he'd try to seek the source. Which one? Was it her? Or her? Until he couldn't sense it anymore and he'd be left hanging on to every breath of the still air all by himself. Left hanging with the images unseen to others but vivid in his own head.

And once again, he sought her. How many times had he been in this situation - seeking her? He lost count. He seems to be always trying to find her, the answers she withheld, and the explanations she didn't deem necessary to share.

This time, he searched for her in the crowd of commuters, pedestrians, bystanders. She seemed to have vanished. He began to think whether he made her image up in his head or he simply mistook her for someone else. Still, he spun around, bent on finding her. Which one? Was it her? Or her? This is not how this scene is meant to end. It should have a sense of completion, maybe even vindication.

Moments pass and at last, he finally saw her. A figure walking briskly away. He tried to quicken his steps to catch up, but didn't dare call out after her. The movement of his steps matched the rhythm of his heartbeat. But it was futile. The last he saw was her back disappearing behind the glass door. When it closed after her, he was faced with his own reflection – somewhat dishevelled and obviously out of place.

He can never seem to catch up with her. Never have. He had always felt she was so evanescent even before when she was such a real and tangible part of his life. That quality seemed to have magnified more now that she is part of his past.

The thought hit him as the first drops of rain collided with the ground. Heaven was sympathizing with him, perhaps. Or making fun of him. He decided it must be humor. And he found himself grinning, in spite of the circumstances.