Rain, rain come again, little Raghavan wants to play-as a boy, Sekhar Raghavan loved playing in the rain. Nothing unusual about that. Youngsters in general fancy the monsoons-there's a special pleasure in catching droplets of rain in the palms or frolicking in the rain and letting the water percolate into the soul. But while the romance of the monsoons endures for a lifetime, most children outgrow their juvenile pranks. Not so Raghavan. All of 55 now, he would rather collect rain in an upturned umbrella than let it drip away from one held over the head.

UMBRELLA ORGANISATION: Raghavan at the Rain Centre

"Saving rain has been like a spark in my heart," smiles Raghavan, now the director of the Rain Centre in Chennai. The centre is part of his Akash Ganga Trust that spreads awareness about rainwater conservation in a country that thirsts for water yet allows the precious fluid to go waste. His message is simple: rainwater harvesting, or RWH, can help augment the meagre water resources of the country.

From a self-motivated campaigner to his present position at the Rain Centre, Raghavan has indeed come a long way. A physicist by profession, he was on the faculty of Madras University between 1976 and 1982. He spent the next decade at a small-scale industry unit. All along, however, he was obsessed with one thing: the rain and how not to let it go waste.

A resident of Besant Nagar in Chennai, once a calm seaside area with plentiful groundwater, Raghavan had noticed the drastic drop in the water table when urbanisation ate into his pristine neighbourhood. In 1992, when he joined the Chennai-based Centre for Policy Studies (CPS), which was doing extensive demographic and environmental studies on villages, he was able to get a greater insight into the subject. "My association with the CPS ignited my preoccupation with RHW," says Raghavan."I don't claim to be a great environmentalist. It's only that I don't like people wasting precious resources." Little wonder then that Raghavan does not hesitate to knock at a door if he notices an overflowing tank on its roof.

His personal campaign to conserve water began with door-to-door visits in 1995. "I distributed simple pamphlets," he recollects, by which he means that the write-ups were bereft of scientific jargon. All they said was that rain was a precious source of pure water which should not be wasted and that with a 1,000 sq ft terrace, it was possible to harvest up to 1.2 lakh litres of water a year.

The people's response was anything but heartening. Most were uninterested, some tore up the pamphlets. "I was considered a nuisance and the watchmen would no longer let me into the buildings," laughs Raghavan. Too many ideas, little support and even less funds-it was an unenviable position that the rainman found himself in. But his indomitable spirit prevailed as recognition gradually followed, first with small stories in local newspapers and then at Chennai Metrowater, the city's water supply board.

It was not until last year, however, that the Akash Ganga Trust was formed. While the seed money of Rs 4 lakh was provided by Ram Krishnan, an NRI from Chennai, a few other like-minded people from the fields of social work, journalism and construction helped Raghavan give shape to his mission. And as if to prove his seriousness, the terrace of the trust's 750 sq ft office was immediately fitted out for harvesting rain. Since then, the centre has helped set up RWH devices like sumps and wells in about 800 buildings in the city. Every Friday, the Rain Centre screens movies with water as the theme to attract more people. And for those who show deeper interest in saving water, Raghavan is an admirable resource person.

Meanwhile, Raghavan has equipped himself with a foreign entrepreneur fellowship so that he can efficiently help the centre meet its objectives. That he refuses the emoluments he is entitled to as the centre's director speaks volumes for his commitment. "Even if I were working as a physics professor, I would be getting ready to retire," he reasons, "so where is my right to demand money? Anyway, I have forgotten my physics to embrace common sense."

As he settles down to watch-for the umpteenth time-the 90-second film on rainwater conservation made by actor Nandita Das, there is an interesting expression on Raghavan's face. A naughty smiles plays on his lips-it is the smile of a child who tries to catch raindrops in his palm, a youngster who knows that there is a magic in the crystal drops that can change lives.