Rain & Me: Old Friends Who Have Fallen Apart

Rain

There was a time, many moons ago, when I used to love the monsoon. My heart skipped a beat when it rained and my MP3 player hummed monsoonal tunes. I’d sit by the window as the rain washed the dust off my garden plants and watch everything enliven. I’d ask Granny to make onion pakoras, dip them in ketchup, and munch them with great delight.

Years have now passed since that time.

I rarely get a chance to watch the rain from my window anymore. I see it – a tad too much – from auto rickshaws and cabs.

I don’t play monsoonal tunes. The few times I try, the music gets drowned in the din of traffic that multiplies manifold whenever it rains.

I don’t have a garden.

I don’t eat fried food.

Here’s what actually happens when it rains now:

I get grumpy when I need to wear raincoats and carry umbrellas to and from work.

I have to juggle my timetable considerably to account for rain-related delays, and struggle to keep my patience when the traffic swears and groans on the ill-kept roads.

Fresh vegetables sans mould and insects are hard to get, making regular meals a struggle, so pakoras are the last thing on my mind.

Clothes don’t dry easily, so dressing up in my favourite items of clothing is a poor decision.

I venture out into my balcony, and if I see it raining, my face falls.

Am I still the same person from all those years ago? What happened to the little joys I sought from the pitter patter of the raindrops, the rain-songs of the koel, the aroma of steaming soup on a rainy evening, the fogged-over windowpanes? Are all the woes of the world – so many of them merely operational – more powerful than the pure happiness of these joys?

This week, I am going to revive my love for rain.

I am going to wake up earlier if I need to so I am not late for work. I’ll invest in a dryer or bring out clothes I haven’t worn in a long time. I will use better earphones to listen to my cherished rain songs. Or better still, use external speakers. I will redo my window seat and settle there every evening, if only for 15 minutes, to watch the twinkling fairy-lights and admire the ephemeral rainbows built by the raindrops.

Rain and I will become friends again.

*Picture from www.dnaindia.com

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Happy on Monday

Every Monday, I share my resolution for a happy week ahead, because hey, year-long resolutions are way too steep. Do link to P&P if you too are Happy on Monday! 🙂

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22 thoughts on “Rain & Me: Old Friends Who Have Fallen Apart

  1. Pingback: Monsoon is Here, I Swear | Of Paneer, Pulao and Pune

  2. Can relate to this so much! How easily we give up on the small joys in life. I am so glad you and the rain going to be friends again. I am gonna try that too. 🙂

  3. Please, don’t stop loving the rain. It’s the one blessing from up above that’s truly visible, tangible and can be enjoyed without getting a tan 🙃 Plus, we need to continue having some shared love, don’t we!?

  4. I used to love rains too earlier. But rains now mostly mean long power cuts here, and increase is mosquitoes. So yeah, kind of hard to appreciate the monsoon’s beauty like earlier. That said, I still am waiting for monsoon to arrive here! The temperatures have remained too high almost ever since the summers started. Need a cool down!

    • Jyoti – I am sending some showers your way, right away! 😀
      Couldn’t agree more about the power cuts and the mosquitoes. I hate how the cool winds make me want to sit out on the porch but I am forced to go in five minutes later, thanks to those evil bloodsuckers!

  5. Oh man, you totally should get back on the rain-loving wagon; agreed: it can be inconvenient, but its RAIN, the scent, the feels, the chills…. sigh.
    P.S: Can you tell I love rain 😛

  6. I could vividly picture this imagery with me as one central character to the rain plot. What a heart warming tale you wrote that sucked me inside the words and how things change over time? We do change every monsoon, right. There are so many memories associated with the monsoon and I have plenty to tell, Debo.

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