It rained at sunset today.

That it rained this evening was not unusual in itself. Least of all in Singapore, where the weather simply alternates between balmy and sultry, downpours provide intermittent relief. But today’s cloudburst was a fitting finale to the hot and arid week that just went by. Startling flashes of lightning and roaring thunderclaps rent the skies mercilessly. The rain poured down in torrents lashing the trees that swayed dangerously while the towering residential skyscrapers stood obstinately still. For nearly an hour, the incensed skies heaped vengeance on the land below where we cowered in the refuge of our homes.

And just as unexpectedly as the thunderstorm had started, it died away without any warning. An eerie silence prevailed. As the dark grey atmosphere of the storm faded, the neighbourhood was suffused in a ghostly golden glow of the setting sun. Had we been unconscious of the time of the day, it would have been nearly impossible to know whether a new day was beginning or the night was taking over.

I think, sometimes life is like that. At times it is hard to know whether one thing is coming to an end or another is just beginning to take shape. Sometimes there are no clear boundaries, no distinct demarcations, as one event segues into the next. Perhaps there are certain events or incidents that tend to divide our lives into before and after phases, but those are rarities. Mostly, it’s about bouncing along until we reach those defining turns. And when we do, we simply call them new beginnings and hope they’d be just that.