The Thundercloud’s story

There he comes again, the bastard! That bloated, puffy black monster…

The sky is a deep blue today, the air so clear you could pull a glass through it and drink it right down. Except for him. Don’t you see him, crouching like a malcontent astride the horizon? He wants to ruin everyone’s day, of that I’m sure. Look, he’s getting closer and closer. And bigger.

We all know what a thundercloud does, don’t we? One of natures saddest…and most irritating creations. When he comes, he’ll cause a ruckus in the middle of the night. He’ll cut your electricity supply. If he’s in a bad mood, he might just zap a few rich golfers back at Golf Links. His ugly, bloated face turns the whole sky black… all in all, not the kind of fellow you’d want to befriend.

But really, is destruction all he’s good for? I’ve heard that everything in the world comes in shades of grey, some just a darker shade…

When the wheat fields in Punjab and Haryana cry out for water, doesn’t he come running with all speed? And if in his haste he spills some water over our big cities, can we really blame him? He’s only trying to help after all. When children in Africa call out for a single sip of water, more precious to them than all the diamonds in the world, who answers their prayers? Do they not look up in awe and gratitude at that hideous black splotch in the sky?

We people used to love him so much… The Aztecs would skin their own brothers and sisters, wear the skins and dance about, just to get his attention. They knew he was the only reason their crops grew. The only reason they were still alive…but what about today? Rain rain go to Spain come again another day? And if they could, they would drive him out, even from Spain because he makes it less comfortable for their precious tourists. Where is our gratitude for him, our savior? What does that say about us as people?

It speaks eloquently about just how shallow we are. We can’t help but look down on someone if he’s dark, squat, and ugly even if we depend on him for our very existence. We call him a nuisance, we isolate him, make him a pariah.

 Unwanted by all.

But think for once, could we really live without the thundercloud? There are some places on this earth which so tried his patience that he abandoned them. The Atacama. The Sahara. The Antarctic. In those places, the blue sky reigns, but she is a cold mistress. She hasn’t a care for those who live beneath her, and in due time, all life below her would die out if it wasn’t for the thundercloud. We talk about her beauty so much that it’s become a cliché, but like all beautiful women, the clear blue sky is black at heart. Our dear thundercloud may not look quite so appealing in contrast. Sure, he is rough around the edges. Of course, his complexion is not awe inspiring. He can be tedious and loud at times, but he has a heart. Before he leaves, he shares what little he has with him. He drizzles his very lifeblood over our hills and valleys that we humans may prosper, and when he finishes, he departs, little more than a wisp. He never asks for anything in return. He’s never jealous of his beautiful sister, but we pay him no heed.

For once, can we not welcome the thundercloud with open arms and smiles on our faces? After all, he is our true lord and savior, the one who sustains all and never asks for anything in return.