Rain

Rain.. It's been raining incessantly for a couple of days now and even though the road outside in non-venturable, I love it. Whether it's the thunderous clasps of lightnings, the sudden chill, or the windy gales that make the rain fall almost horizontal and gives one sleepless nights due the the shivering windows, or even the drenched roads that now seem to have a whole new identity - all washed and gulping in the water.
For almost 18 years of my life, I have had a memorable affair with rain. Back in Pondicherry, when the monsoons would come by during November, I was forever there to welcome her. And while we rehearsed our drills, getting drenched to the bones and teeth chattering our way to conversations with my friends, she never made me hate her. Even though my dress would get dirty beyond any detergent to wash, or the roads too flooded to walk, let alone cycle, or even the beach road too windy to walk on, I loved her.
Getting wet in the rain, I realized later on, was a joy not many others loved to experience. And what some thought as a fascination, I was too used to even make a big deal about it.
But when the first rains came lashing down in Mumbai, I ran up to my terrace to get drenched again and feel her all over me. She wasn't the same as I felt her in Pondy, but the touch brought back memories. I stayed on, getting draped by her watery sheets till I started to shiver. She felt different here, polluted, unwanted, and always seen as a menace. Far in the distance, I could see some kids pouring in on their terrace and dancing in the rains. While they enjoyed getting themselves wet, one could sense the fear of their mothers waiting for their return, with hot milk boiling in the kitchen and checking and rechecking the medicines for the season.
I, on the other hand, felt superior. In all my years in Pondicherry, I don't remember a time when getting wet in the rain made me get sick. probably that's why I loved her so much. She was taking care of me while I lost myself in her new world. I, along with many others, not only have enjoyed the rain, but have played in it, practiced the drills for hours and even ventured around the city bare chested. I felt manly then, doing that, and even though in retrospection, it does look a tad foolish, I enjoyed it. Thoroughly.
Rains in Mumbai are different. The smell of the air before and after the air is not as pleasant as it was in Pondicherry. The overall atmosphere is very grim, and even though there are a few pockets of people who love to enjoy her, I could never bear to compare the rains in Pondy to the ones in Mumbai. Not the quantity of it, but the sheer emotions attached and the air it brings about.
I love the rains in Pondy and would readily run out and get myself drenched again anytime, to reminiscent the moments that made my childhood.

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