Scanned through a couple of Indian blogs today. Most of them, had at some point in the recent past mentioned the monsoon. This got me spending a good portion of the last hour daydreaming about the rainy season in India. When I say rain, I mean real rain, as in continuous down pour, not just one or two stray showers with may be a dash of lightning and thunder together with myriad, exaggerated warnings and alerts blaring on the tv screen.
I mean RAIN, as in
the smell of fresh earth when the first drops fall,
lots of mud and slush,
getting dirty and drenched wet,
coloured raincoats and umbrellas,
little feet jumping into huge puddles,
traffic jams, angry motorists,
sound of car horns amidst loud thunder,
people scrambling for shelter under a roof or a tree,
people wet and angry...
It's a very special feeling, sipping that hot cup of tea after you've just wiped your self dry, hearing each drop fall against the window, knowing that you've beaten it. It's even more special when it stops and the sky is washed and clear with the Sun slowly creeping out almost as if its scared. It never ceases to amaze me, how most of us, look forward to the rain, inspite of the inconveniences that come with it, in fact, we really enjoy some of them.
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