The Magic of Rain

When I stepped out of the house, there was no sign of rain, but within no time, the sky was overcast, and the trees started swaying eerily. The birds’ chirps reached a crescendo. Two peacocks tried to outmatch each other’s musical notes, one trying to sing on a higher pitch.

Soon, the rain cascaded down from the sky, changing the surroundings into some sort of a land of enchantment, drenched in the rain’s wet hug. A koel trilled from its hidden nook, and now the peacocks squawked in unison. My cousin called from Jammu.

“Ever since April 30th, there was a slight chill in the air. April is usually very hot, but it is not hot this year. It is freaky weather in Jammu. I am draped in a shawl.”

“Shawl in April!” I exclaimed.

“And it is snowing in Kashmir! Incredible!” she added.

“Yes, I read people were waiting for gondola rides in Gulmarg, with umbrellas on their heads. Everything has become freaky.”

“Yes, the winter chill is back in Kashmir due to the ceaseless rains.”

Now it was raining in Jaipur too. The rhythmic pitter-patter of raindrops had awakened romance in a few couples and as the rain weaved its magic through the air, love found its voice in the gentle whispers of the rain-soaked trees — Gul mohar, Neem, and Ashoka. Even the birds went into a frenzy of unabashed love-chirps.

Lovers strolled hand in hand, their footsteps leaving imprints on the wet sand as if marking the beginning of a timeless tale of love — a symphony of nature’s serenade.

Kids romped and splashed in the rain, singing rain songs, while their mothers issued threats from their windows, which fell on deaf ears.

Morning Meanderings Season 4 – the weekly column by Santosh Bakaya

When I returned home, fully drenched, I saw that our next-door neighbors, a bunch of rambunctious college kids, were vacating their rented accommodation, and there was a huge commotion outside our house. A boy was bargaining with the truck driver in a belligerent voice, but the driver was reasoning with him in a very cool voice.

“Hundred rupees will make no difference to you, but it will make a world of difference to me.”

There was a sudden gust of wind and the hundred rupee note flew from the hands of the quarrelsome boy and fell into a freshly formed puddle of rainwater.

The boy let loose a litany of abuses and dived into the water as if his very existence depended on salvaging the hundred rupee note from a watery death. But in this plunging and diving, he slipped and stumbled into the puddle. It was the driver who deftly dashed to his rescue. And to the rescue of the hundred rupee note!

Now, the boy sheepishly dived into the pocket of his expensive branded jeans, fishing out a fifty rupee note, grudgingly added it to the drenched and bedraggled hundred rupee note, and handed it to the driver, looking furtively at his face for his expressions.

“Thank you,” said the boy, face sheathed in indignation.
“Thank you,” said the driver, face sheathed in smiles.
By now, the rain had gone away and would come again another day.
A happy me had had my chunk of entertainment without any entertainment tax.

The truck was loaded — so was the boy, with tons of anger against the truck- driver who had dared to make him poorer by 150 rupees!

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About the Author

Santosh Bakaya ( 174 Posts)

Dr Santosh Bakaya is the author of three mystery novels for young adults, and a book of essays titled Flights From My Terrace, which was recently published as an e-book on Smashwords. Her poetic biography of Mahatma Gandhi, Ballad Of Bapu has been published by Vitasta Publishers, Delhi, India in May 2015 and has been receiving rave reviews from everywhere. Although a Political theorist, with a doctorate in political theory, it is literature which has been her first love. She was awarded the Reuel international award for language and literature 2014 for her long poem Oh Hark!, which forms part of the Significant Anthology. Many of her poems have figured in the highly commended category in Destiny Poets, a UK based website and many are part of international anthologies. Right now, she is giving the final touches to her satirical novel, tentatively titled Sanakpur Shenanigans.
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