A city rain...

The monsoon has arrived and the sky is darker above with life sprouting underneath. The wind is heavy and cold but pleasant and it tickles the heart as it passes through you. The city beneath is waiting for a bath. Rain in cities is a mess. The cloudy skies make you happy expecting a downfall that would bring blessings, but the city never likes it. It is clogged, heavy and busy and the trickles and drizzles would bring rainfall that fills it. I can see the dark big clouds blanketing the jungle of cement and bricks. The blue and pink villas are now dark and waiting for the rainfall. The sky looks breath-taking with the blue clouds over the white ones and the string of orange sunshine struggling to pass through it.

 And it rains, it rains heavy. The water swells up on the ground and the narrow gulley is filled with mucky water. People run to the sides of tea stalls and small shops, standing under the sign boards wet but safe from drenching in the rainwater. When you look at the sky an overwhelming feel of happiness with awe strikes you. It is indeed a blessing. The dry atmosphere has been changed within seconds to pleasant one.

But cities get crowded with rainfall. The bustling markets get even thicker with traffic and the atmosphere is filled with loud sounds of autorickshaw horns and vrooming of those light weight motor bikes. It gets even dirtier with puddles of rainwater on the road mixed with the overflow of the drainage system. Whatever messiness it creates one cannot take away happiness from rain. It is happiness and it is pouring down on every particle of the brown soil. Sitting cross-legged on the terrace I sip a hot cup of tea watching the rain, watching blessing in water form….