I've never liked carrying umbrellas. Ever since I was a small child. I remember, once, I was returning home from school when it began pouring. I plucked a huge colocasia leaf from a garden and walked home shading myself from the rain, thrilled by my resourcefulness. Even now, when black clouds loom and I am asked by those who care, to carry an umbrella, I rebel. Only when I got drenched yesterday, did I wonder why. And I found that an umbrella for me is a symbol of prudent, careful, cautious living, of thinking of what lies ahead, of playing safe. And somehow, that goes against my grain. I would rather go out, not knowing what will happen, ready to take what's in store for me. And if the heavens decide to soak me, and I can find no shade, I will open myself to the experience and be happy walking in the rain.
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