I’m at home for Diwali. After 4 long months of rains in Hyderabad, I thought I’d see some dry weather in my hometown. But as expected, it’s raining heavily outside. The winds are furious, not listening to any tree who wants to stand tall, making them bow to their wishes. The rains are not in a mood to be romantic, so no drizzles, no showers, just torrential downpour. Oh! and the clouds seem to enjoy all of this, judging by the thunderous applause they’re giving to the performance of the rains and winds. The air is again filled with the sweet smell of the earth, the one universal fragrance everyone loves, irrespective of caste, creed, sex, religion or nationality. It has a certain sense of satisfaction with it. We know that someone has found something he yearned for. And he wants to share his joy with everyone.
You know what’s special about rains? They always bring your childhood memories back. I doubt summers or the winter season does that. There’s so much we’ve all done in the rains( for a change, no pun intended!!!) As toddlers we ate mud! ( don’t tell me you don’t recollect the taste of the earth!!!) As children we watched the streams running in our courtyards, forming a pond up ahead somewhere. The boats we would make, the clay models of tanks and bullock carts that rivaled the genius of Leonardo Da Vinci. We watched how cars splashed water around, oblivious to the plight of people on bikes and those walking. We watched the black roads and the water running on them, sometimes crossing the road in a clear stream. Didn’t you wonder then how the water was so clean? We were also shown some of the finest shades of green by the trees, shrubs and plants. The air was clear and we could see far away things from our terraces. An occasional rainbow would set our pulse racing, so exhilarating was the experience!
Rains meant pampering by all the elders, we just couldn’t make ourselves to do homework or go to school early morning. Rains meant escaping mom’s wrath even when we went to school in whites and came back brown. Rains meant pakodas as starters, main course and desserts. Rains meant colourful raincoats and umbrellas. Rains meant fun watching people scamper to the shelter of a tea stall or a tree, juggling their bags. Rains meant Diwali for the tea stall guy, whose sales increased beyond his imagination. Rains meant blessings for the farmer, who could then look forward to some profits (atleast this season). Oh! Rains meant so much…
As I snap back to the here and now, I can smell laddoos being prepared downstairs. The rain has stopped, but not without lading the air with moisture. This will adversely affect the crackers, so there will be quite a few misfiring this time around. I need to go downstairs and demand some extortion ( in the form of laddoos or pakodas).
After all I’m visiting my home, there should be some special treatment… 😀