Slam! bang-bang!
The windows in my room frolicked with the wind.
"Rick! Close all the windows..." My mum's voiced trailed away into oblivion, for i was running to the terrace. I was expecting this sudden gust. I had trusted the Meteorological department today.
As i stepped into the terrace, too many things happened at once. I got dust into my eyes, and I became temporarily blind. The wind and rain rammed into my face. Someone's Newspaper fluttered and stuck to my already battered face.
But i didnt mind.
I splashed my eyes and took a better look all around.
"What did i see?"
Remember the "Selfish Giant" by Oscar Wilde?
"He saw a wonderful sight."
Well, I saw a wonderful sight too.
Trees swaying with happy turbulence, the grey clouds rushing, flying low like an armada of space ships, the dark war clouds brooding grimly in the centre of the sky, the birds already splashing in the improvised bird baths, the wind blowing everything away...
The smell of wet earth, the "sonda" smell. The smell of dust and rain.
Ah yes, the rain.
Pin drops to thick splooshy drops the size of my thumbnail. As i stood there, it began to rain in earnest. Once thoroughly soaked, the rain felt seriously cold. But there was a warmth in the cold. The warmth of the first summer rain. And the due warmth of the first summer rains of the last 2-3 years that i missed.
As i stood there, blinking against the rain, some old songs began to play in my mind as if from a badly tuned radio. In the background of age old images of Assam cyclones, of uprooted trees and flooded streets.
A moth, struggling against the wind, fluttered one last time and fell a foot away from me, dead. It was there for a full moment before the wind blew it away...
And then flooded the evanescent memories. Both old and new, the memories touched by the rain.Happy and sad. Dry and wet. Warm and cold. They stayed and reminded, before the wind blew them away one by one...
The flat owners came flooding in worrying about their clothes. Someone exclaimed that her precious black skirt has been blown away, someone swore aloud because his tata sky was one wire short.
And they broke the wet spell.
6 comments:
i was at FIITJEE when the rains began. the teacher had to let us off early.. and i got soakd!
the first and last rains of the season are always the best, are they not? my fondest memories are always associated with them!
Rain, rain, rain.
It comes, and so do hopes. and so do memories.
I've already told u what this blog reminds me of.
Now, for the blog : Your descriptions are delightlfully fluffy. Its beautiful. In the midst of that - the reflections drawn up by your mind give this blog a lot of dimensions.
It looks as though the day for worrying about punctuations is gone.
Look at your earlier posts, and then look at the last 5. Boy, haven't you matured.
I practically ran to give the rain a cordial reception from FIITJEE.What a relief man! What a relief!It seems that the people of higher elevations have finally taken pity on us!
Sometimes I get the feeling that the best job in the world is the one which the guys in the Met Department have. Where else can you be wrong 95% of the time and still not be kicked out?
Seriously, Rick, your posts are astoundingly natural.
Astoundingly is right! ASTOUNDINGLY, I should say!
Oh, you horrible thing! Why must you write SO AMAZINGLY WELL? But wait, I LOVED this post. LOVED it! Why did I love it? I envy you for it!
Simple and beautiful. Or maybe complex and beautiful. But this post of yours strikes a chord somewhere...
@ Timmy-Its the rain. I dunno why i reacted to it the way i did. The first rain is always divine. Simple in its importance. Divine in its... well, divine in every way. :)
@Kiki- one of the best and most refreshing memories, yep!
@Roro- I have, have i? Cheers! All down to the training i received, really. And Your pokes were of utmost importance. I thank thee.
@Amit- Absolutely! And about time too!
@Mr.Cat- Met Department needs an urgent change. Lets apply, shall we? we shall change the world! er, the weather.
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