A rainy weekend

Hyderabad witnessed its first proper summer showers and yes, it was heaven-sent. Bonnalu brought good luck to the farmers and some respite to the electricity board. What happens with the onset of rains is an oft repeated tale. As much as I enjoy walking in the rain and picking up all the dirt and muddy rain water close on the heels I dislike it for all mundane reasons. Your clothes smell of whatever, everything has that musty damp feeling. Your hair is forever tangled and you can’t seem have enough of going to the loo. Water intake is low and tea, if someone is going to make it for you then it is most welcome. Make sure the kitchen bin is nicely covered, lest the neighbour’s cat decides to explore and play around. My flower pots were happy. My doormat was not tho’ and my flatmate’s turtles enjoyed the trickle on their tub. They frolicked and danced all over the water. The autowallah always has a reason to ask for more fare, why? It is raining. God, what happens if it is sunny? The roads are clean, no creature except for the odd stray tramp looking for some cover. The leaves of all the grand trees and also, the smaller ones make beautiful pitter-patter sound on the window-pane and also on the road, the earth smells fresh and nice and also, if the municipality forgot to seal the septic tank then that also smells. The bhutta guy has a scant umbrella to save his fire and business. That is the best rain snack. The vehicles on the road think the road belongs to their ancestry. They have scant heed towards that lone ranger walking home. They don’t mind splashing some mud, some water, some sewage and some gags. The choicest of expletives get drowned in the din of the pitter-patter. Ice-cream never tastes so gorgeous on a rainy day. Getting wet until your waist despite the fabulous umbrella you carry is no longer a distress, it is a style statement.