Friday, May 7, 2010

Monsieur Monsoon

It rained all day tonight.
'Twas an early morning when the rains tried to steal in. But because of the many ghissus up at that hour, the wake up calls went around quickly and the houses and balconies were full of cheers as the first drop came shooting from the skies.

The thunder applauded.

The rain came pouring, unfurling its silvery sheen, its full glory and richness of sound, down onto the waiting trees, the thirsty soil and the outstretched arms. In minutes, the world stood transformed as a certain banana republic of a place called Roorkee bade its minions to the cursed confines of examination halls. Though not even a thing as cross-eyed as an exam can spoil anything that's got a dreamy 'first' prefixed to it. First Crush, First Car, First name it!

You just need to jump into the puddles, or lip-sync with a frog or freeze-frame the spiralling droplets and the dreadful hangover of the aweful-est exam goes cartwheeling into the misty horizons.

Rains are magical.
In the sheer audacity of their suddenness, in the bountiful beauty they inspire, in the music they leave behind.
Rains heal. By giving back life to parched land, by washing the dust off old memories, and simply by showing up.
Rains unite. By getting people together over cups of coffee, by pulling out the livelier sorts onto the streets and forcing the hydrophobic ones to stay huddled under shelters.

The leaves must have dried up by now. Just hoping my shoes have too.