It rained at dusk today. The first shower we had this year. I had almost forgotten the smell of the red wet earth that I used to love as a child. I looked out of my window. The increasing sound of the drops that hit the tin rooftop next door drove me to our portico. It felt strange to re-live the moment under the silvery red sky. Birds flew away in flocks…they seemed to be in a hurry. The lightening on those far fetched hills caught my attention. Tall bamboo trees by our driveway danced to the tunes of the wind and that wet stray dog across the street?
Under the wooden shed of a small shop stood a half drenched man holding a live chicken by its legs and he stood still the whole time, as if, cursing the rain for the delay it had caused him. The chicken on the other hand looked rather confused, fluttering her wings every now and then. Cars and busses were slowing down and it was time to switch their headlights on. The rickshaw pullers with their water drenched eyes paddled harder just so to keep their momentum against the rain. A couple briskly walked pass, their handkerchiefs wrapped around their head acting as make-shift umbrellas. Distant hustling passer-bys voices echoed with the sound of the drops. My mother’s full bloomed Dahlias quenched their thirst and like my mood, loved every bit of it.
As the wind gush the curtains away, I got a glimpse of my niece in the next room, oblivion to the rain, training her sa-re-ga-ma with her brand new harmonium. For me it added music to the ambiance. The girl on the other side of the fence rushed to her backyard and haphazardly collected the clothes from the washing line, the lonely swing; water patiently dripping from the rain that has now stopped. It seemed to have washed away the dust it had collected over the winter. My heart wanted to feel, touch and dance with the rain but my whole new British attitude stopped me and sensibly reminded me of my impending commitments and that I couldn’t afford to sport a cold. Now with a slight chill in the air, I need to wrap myself up, pick that brewing cup of tea and get on with my mundane life.
1 comment:
wow!!! u took me to the olden days we used to luv it when it rained...i remember we used to cook something hot and spicy if it was a chilly rainy night and used to play antakshiri...i still have a vivid memory of the sound of rain hitting the roof in our tezpur home...i wish u had a audio of that sound of rain...i cud have played that here in scotland during the night..:)
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