The 'Drops' of Nostalgia

Its been raining for a couple of days now... And when you live in a desert area like Rajasthan, that statement means a lot. When you get up early in the morning and unlike usual sunny days with sun rays obstinately peeping into your room through the window, there is darkness... a beautiful serenity and there is sound of raindrops pit-patting on the windows. You get up lazily and look outside the window. The roads are being washed clean, little streams of water are flowing down the narrow colony lanes, not a single person in sight except for romantic-natured people in their balconies sipping a cup of hot tea with fresh crispy pakodas. You might hear cheery cries of a few little kids on their small tricycles and bicycles that once decorated your porch too. You take a deep breath only to get your nostrils filled with the amazing tar-damp smell of wet sand and rain, which you want to lick. You see above almost in a conversation with God, and see the thunders and lightening pummelling the embrittled clouds... Stretching yourself, you move into your own balcony for a little stroll. Its drizzling beautifully. Fresh. Pure. Divine.

You look down at the road. Puddles here and there. And you see yourself, actually... an 8-year yourself, jumping wildly into those puddles splashing water all around. Sometimes, playing that marble game with your group of young friends, competing together as to whose marble will tip on the water more than once. Maybe, bicycle riding, cutting across the small water screams on the sides of the road, to see the water beautifully splashing and raising your feet high above. Or probably, a game of wet-cricket (of course, It's India!) with risky chances of slipping while taking a run. Or maybe, going to school in a bus, when rain is pounding the window panes, and you would dim the window with your breath and write your name... When you would paddle across the school ground with your friends like a flotilla of little ducks...
Sometimes, returning home, with feet all dirty with mud and dirt, and for a change, not getting scolded at all. After all, its monsoon!

A Season everyone looks forward to...  a season that cheers up everyone... a season that encourages moms to cook delightfully "different" fancy meals...  a season that makes the dads come back home earlier than usual... a season when siblings adorn the house terraces with self invented games... a season when groups of youngsters are found at the most happening places...

Its a monsoon evening... darker than it should be at 4 p.m. ... an evening when work might take a back seat... an evening that inspires you to do something that YOU like... an evening which brings me back to writing a blog post... :)

It couldn't be better... Happy Monsoons! :)


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