Temperamental, they are, aren't they, the Rains; wet they would someone deep down while leave others high and dry. When millions go cloth-less with frenzied excitement seeing the first cloud hover, from million others it(rain) mericilessly takes away the only piece of clothing they have had for ages.When the firmament opens up in all its splendour to wet down the essence of earth, it is blissfully unaware of what would come back. Brickbats and boquets bundled together is what they get back. That's how it's been for them, almost always. Fate, all one can say!!! It would be too gory a tale to delve deeper...let it be a story untold.
The recent spurt of non-seasonal rains in Delhi have hit me hard, though with a stupid question. Is there a difference between an "evening" shower and a "morning" drizzle. A year back, and I would have said rains are always fun, what morning, what evening. I do want to say that now as well, but can I, with the same conviction. Perhaps not. Actually not.
The rain is beating down hard and strong in the late evening and there I stand in my balcony with my colleague, sipping some hot coffee. Leaning against the wall, we talk of all the good times, remembering all the beautiful seasons we spent together in our college days. Hours later we retreat back to our bed, to be up in time for office next morning and with child like innocence he says, "Alok, let's keep all the windows and the door open, it is such a beautiful weather." I am only too willing to accept. An "aah" erupts and rainy dreams take us over.
Mornings never came before 9 and 9 was never too early on office days. And it is raining still. "Hey, Bhagwan, even the raincoats haven't dried up" I scream and the rains, it is raining as if it were never to stop. The is perhaps the agony of being rain. No natural phenomenon ever elicited such juxtaposed emotions and such widely varied one at that. If in the evening those tiny inncouous droplets of water falling off the leaves took us on a ride to the sylvan greens of our college campus, they grow monsterous by the morning clogging roads and overflowing the sewage. Negotiating a heavly clogged stretch with a wide frown on my face, I asked, "How would Delhi ever become a world class city?" Not at least with rains playing havoc in the "morning".
The evening air seems all pleasant and soothing. Intoxicated by the presence of water droplets in their fold, it blows ubridled, caressing the trees and temple-tops on its way to its unison with the clouds. Swing it plays to the tightly held hands of two lovers in tow enjoying their first rain of togetherness. Come morning and the breeze has all gone heavy and dustful hitting hard against your raincoats and still searching for something more non-plastic to wet. These morning rains, they never did anyone any good, did they?
There can hardly be few things more fulfilling than savouring the enchating aroma emanting from the soil in the evening. It fills up ur senses with contenment, leaving an indelible mark on your heart. The morning rain leaves a mark too, of a different kind though, on ur shoes, ur clothers as u make ur way through the dirty, stinking rivulents left as a testimony; A testimony to the wonderful time the "evening" rain had brought about; A testimony to the ill-designs of the morning rain; A testimony to my ever so increasing hatred for the morning rain..............!!!!
The recent spurt of non-seasonal rains in Delhi have hit me hard, though with a stupid question. Is there a difference between an "evening" shower and a "morning" drizzle. A year back, and I would have said rains are always fun, what morning, what evening. I do want to say that now as well, but can I, with the same conviction. Perhaps not. Actually not.
The rain is beating down hard and strong in the late evening and there I stand in my balcony with my colleague, sipping some hot coffee. Leaning against the wall, we talk of all the good times, remembering all the beautiful seasons we spent together in our college days. Hours later we retreat back to our bed, to be up in time for office next morning and with child like innocence he says, "Alok, let's keep all the windows and the door open, it is such a beautiful weather." I am only too willing to accept. An "aah" erupts and rainy dreams take us over.
Mornings never came before 9 and 9 was never too early on office days. And it is raining still. "Hey, Bhagwan, even the raincoats haven't dried up" I scream and the rains, it is raining as if it were never to stop. The is perhaps the agony of being rain. No natural phenomenon ever elicited such juxtaposed emotions and such widely varied one at that. If in the evening those tiny inncouous droplets of water falling off the leaves took us on a ride to the sylvan greens of our college campus, they grow monsterous by the morning clogging roads and overflowing the sewage. Negotiating a heavly clogged stretch with a wide frown on my face, I asked, "How would Delhi ever become a world class city?" Not at least with rains playing havoc in the "morning".
The evening air seems all pleasant and soothing. Intoxicated by the presence of water droplets in their fold, it blows ubridled, caressing the trees and temple-tops on its way to its unison with the clouds. Swing it plays to the tightly held hands of two lovers in tow enjoying their first rain of togetherness. Come morning and the breeze has all gone heavy and dustful hitting hard against your raincoats and still searching for something more non-plastic to wet. These morning rains, they never did anyone any good, did they?
There can hardly be few things more fulfilling than savouring the enchating aroma emanting from the soil in the evening. It fills up ur senses with contenment, leaving an indelible mark on your heart. The morning rain leaves a mark too, of a different kind though, on ur shoes, ur clothers as u make ur way through the dirty, stinking rivulents left as a testimony; A testimony to the wonderful time the "evening" rain had brought about; A testimony to the ill-designs of the morning rain; A testimony to my ever so increasing hatred for the morning rain..............!!!!
3 comments:
I still remember the times when "morning" showers used to be God's gift, 'coz it meant cancellation of Morning School Assembly (which I inexorably hated) at the worst and a day off at the best!
But rite said friend...professional life, in the name of pragmatism, at times makes you incapable of even enjoying the moments one must cherish...
To sir aap gaadi le rahe the baarish se bachne ke liye, uska kya hua???
Agree with Chopra..
Have lots of memories of rainy days in school time.. But professional world is altogether a diff arena: a cruel one.. :-(
My roomy often tries to coax me to take off from office on such days and simply sit and enjoy pakoras at home.. But even he knows that it's too much a luxury for us to afford now.. :(
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