"Rain Over Me"
June' 2019.
Monsoons bring back too many memories. Rains in Kolkata was an experience.... it needed to be felt. Bidding adieu to the scorching and humid heat and the season of mangoes and litchis, came over the ILISH with its taste.
Rains meant Ilish maach, wet, muddy streets and memories. My memories are thronged with innumerable and abstract images of water logged streets, and a holiday declared as rainy day, while in school.
The drenched balcony and the sudden run to the terrace to get all the dry clothes drive me back to the good old days I had spent at home.
I always hate summers and somehow try to get away from it. Alas, living in a tropical country would never make me flee away from the despised season of the year. A splash of rain is always enough to make us cheerful. Though my love for the monsoons is immortal, the rains in Kolkata would obviously create a mess all around. Sitting idle at home and gazing at the rains might be amazing, but once the rains are over, and you have to hop onto the street, you are sure to find yourself in puddles and potholes oozing out mud and water.
As a kid, getting drenched in the rain, was always in the routine for me and my sister; of course a mandatory bath lined up after this. I remember once, while coming back home from the market, our umbrella just blew away from over our heads, and what we were holding onto was the stick, which was all that was left over of the umbrella. Our school holidays just outnumbered itself with at least two to three holidays in the monsoon, when an unexpected heavy downpour would clog all the streets leading to school, declaring the day to be a rainy day holiday.
2016, marriage occured and I had to stay afloat with shifting to Bangalore, with my husband and occasionally visiting Hyderabad for my academics, as I was pursuing PhD. I am still pursuing the same, by the way. Not a new city to me, but Bangalore has been a second home to me after Kolkata. The evenings would be a great relief as the clouds would gather around and result in heavy rains, almost everyday. The weekends would be summed up with smoke steaming out of the kitchen. Some delicacy would find a place on rainy evenings. It would either be khichudi, begun bhaja or ilish mach bhaja lining up.
A view from my Bangalore home balcony, while it rained.
I miss all the rains in these two cities. I have finally landed here in Hyderabad, where the rains are scarce and it would never make up to the ample and unlimited rain pouring over.
And, here I am in a parched part of the country, fighting to get a glimpse of rain drenched earth and the greenery all around. Finally, the monsoon has struck here and lazing all day in home and watching the dried and thirsty earth quenching its thirst, feels amazing. The evening addas, muri makha and some chops is again missing. Though I have strayed away from home for almost a decade or maybe a few years more to the decade, Hyderabad brings back memories of dark evenings with frequent power cuts, but no bhooter golpo which was an added aura to the monsoons.
To end this note, I paste a click from my sister's personal collection, she clicked from her office.
Monsoons bring back too many memories. Rains in Kolkata was an experience.... it needed to be felt. Bidding adieu to the scorching and humid heat and the season of mangoes and litchis, came over the ILISH with its taste.
Rains meant Ilish maach, wet, muddy streets and memories. My memories are thronged with innumerable and abstract images of water logged streets, and a holiday declared as rainy day, while in school.
The drenched balcony and the sudden run to the terrace to get all the dry clothes drive me back to the good old days I had spent at home.
I always hate summers and somehow try to get away from it. Alas, living in a tropical country would never make me flee away from the despised season of the year. A splash of rain is always enough to make us cheerful. Though my love for the monsoons is immortal, the rains in Kolkata would obviously create a mess all around. Sitting idle at home and gazing at the rains might be amazing, but once the rains are over, and you have to hop onto the street, you are sure to find yourself in puddles and potholes oozing out mud and water.
As a kid, getting drenched in the rain, was always in the routine for me and my sister; of course a mandatory bath lined up after this. I remember once, while coming back home from the market, our umbrella just blew away from over our heads, and what we were holding onto was the stick, which was all that was left over of the umbrella. Our school holidays just outnumbered itself with at least two to three holidays in the monsoon, when an unexpected heavy downpour would clog all the streets leading to school, declaring the day to be a rainy day holiday.
2016, marriage occured and I had to stay afloat with shifting to Bangalore, with my husband and occasionally visiting Hyderabad for my academics, as I was pursuing PhD. I am still pursuing the same, by the way. Not a new city to me, but Bangalore has been a second home to me after Kolkata. The evenings would be a great relief as the clouds would gather around and result in heavy rains, almost everyday. The weekends would be summed up with smoke steaming out of the kitchen. Some delicacy would find a place on rainy evenings. It would either be khichudi, begun bhaja or ilish mach bhaja lining up.
I miss all the rains in these two cities. I have finally landed here in Hyderabad, where the rains are scarce and it would never make up to the ample and unlimited rain pouring over.
And, here I am in a parched part of the country, fighting to get a glimpse of rain drenched earth and the greenery all around. Finally, the monsoon has struck here and lazing all day in home and watching the dried and thirsty earth quenching its thirst, feels amazing. The evening addas, muri makha and some chops is again missing. Though I have strayed away from home for almost a decade or maybe a few years more to the decade, Hyderabad brings back memories of dark evenings with frequent power cuts, but no bhooter golpo which was an added aura to the monsoons.
To end this note, I paste a click from my sister's personal collection, she clicked from her office.
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