Though I'm not too happy admitting it, there's something oddly charming about the Bangalore rains. It comes and goes and sometimes stays on as an unwanted visitor exceeding his welcome. But it's forgivable for the beautiful pleasantness it leaves behind. The air seems still, perfect for a hot cup of chai with pakodas. It's quite a cliche image, but there's a reason for the existence of cliches. It can get annoying when if there's a sudden power cut and everything goes black. But all you can do is embrace the darkness amidst the pitter-patter on your windowpanes. Enjoy the momentary or prolonged solitude and warm up to the hundreds of thoughts that swim in the deep oceans of your mind. You'll hear the answers you're seeking for. Just tell yourself it's a dream and never wake up again. Sigh. I just killed you, didn't I? Oh well.
Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Day 161/366
The three of us were just bored and looking for a good time. (Don't get excited for the wrong reasons, perverted reader!) We shared a chocolate ice cream sitting under a tree and tried to come up with a workable plan of action. What we had thought of was brilliant. Except for the fact that it seemed impossible to implement. That's the case with a lot of things in life, isn't it? My learning: Theory < Practical.
Somehow, we managed to make our little plan happen. We were elated! Our plan was accomplished and it had begun to rain. (No, creating rain was not the plan. It was a secondary occurrence.) Rain, as we discovered, was the best way to run away and hide in a lane only lit by streetlights to do what we were doing. It was thrilling! The risk of doing something wrong always gives me this rush knowing that I could be caught at any point of time. And we used that little dimly lit narrow lane to it's full capacity! I don't know what it was - the rain or the excitement of this adventure taking place; but I was just a really happy person for those 30 minutes or so that seemed to pass by slowly and beautifully.
We jumped a few puddles, struggling to keep our bags under the umbrella. The clothes were already too drenched to worry about. Also, let's face it, the three of us were bigger than your average 21-year-old (especially the tall boy among us!) to fit under one tiny umbrella. A brainwave struck at the same time as the lightning hit the dark skies. And we found ourselves walking to a tapri to have gorom cha. It was possibly the two most brilliant cups of tea I have consumed in my life.
There was something in the glow of the chaiwalla's lamp that warmed something inside of me. It was something that I wanted to let go of by accepting it. I realized it after dropping my friends to a taxi stand and putting on my earphones and heading home. Neil Young's Cortez the Killer was working it's magic on me. I was blissed out by the whole evening. It felt great to realize that somewhere, I know who I am. I am a person who can enjoy simple things in life like getting wet in the rain. More importantly, my love for this city was reignited. Up until recently, I was really averse to returning to Calcutta. But there's something about the monsoons and this place that keeps pulling me back to it. And however random a group the three of us might have formed, I'm really glad that it was them who made this experience possible. Here's to more crazy adventures in the Calcutta rains! :)
Somehow, we managed to make our little plan happen. We were elated! Our plan was accomplished and it had begun to rain. (No, creating rain was not the plan. It was a secondary occurrence.) Rain, as we discovered, was the best way to run away and hide in a lane only lit by streetlights to do what we were doing. It was thrilling! The risk of doing something wrong always gives me this rush knowing that I could be caught at any point of time. And we used that little dimly lit narrow lane to it's full capacity! I don't know what it was - the rain or the excitement of this adventure taking place; but I was just a really happy person for those 30 minutes or so that seemed to pass by slowly and beautifully.
We jumped a few puddles, struggling to keep our bags under the umbrella. The clothes were already too drenched to worry about. Also, let's face it, the three of us were bigger than your average 21-year-old (especially the tall boy among us!) to fit under one tiny umbrella. A brainwave struck at the same time as the lightning hit the dark skies. And we found ourselves walking to a tapri to have gorom cha. It was possibly the two most brilliant cups of tea I have consumed in my life.
There was something in the glow of the chaiwalla's lamp that warmed something inside of me. It was something that I wanted to let go of by accepting it. I realized it after dropping my friends to a taxi stand and putting on my earphones and heading home. Neil Young's Cortez the Killer was working it's magic on me. I was blissed out by the whole evening. It felt great to realize that somewhere, I know who I am. I am a person who can enjoy simple things in life like getting wet in the rain. More importantly, my love for this city was reignited. Up until recently, I was really averse to returning to Calcutta. But there's something about the monsoons and this place that keeps pulling me back to it. And however random a group the three of us might have formed, I'm really glad that it was them who made this experience possible. Here's to more crazy adventures in the Calcutta rains! :)
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Day 158/366
The smell that captures the earth at it rawest,
The sight of water trapped in the winds,
The captivating beauty of it all unfolding
As the first rains of monsoon pour down.
The humid discomfort to follow
Are gladly forgotten momentarily.
The gleam of the sun on the leaves
Put my mind at ease, at peace.
Before I can go soak it in,
She stops falling on me.
I stand content at the idea
That monsoon's almost ready to begin.
The sight of water trapped in the winds,
The captivating beauty of it all unfolding
As the first rains of monsoon pour down.
The humid discomfort to follow
Are gladly forgotten momentarily.
The gleam of the sun on the leaves
Put my mind at ease, at peace.
Before I can go soak it in,
She stops falling on me.
I stand content at the idea
That monsoon's almost ready to begin.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)