The Rainy Time

Telugu: Vishi

“It’s raining. Why have you opened the windows? Shut them off!”

This human doesn’t know how to relish the rainfall.

Nor does he know how to savor it – appreciate it? Understanding its worth?

Never.

“Is the breakfast ready”?

“Have you ironed the shirt”?

“I’ve left a file here? Have you seen it”?

These are the questions to ask at this time?

At a time when the waters are falling from the sky as drops? As droplets of rain?

How lovely it is when it rains – pitter patter!

For all these questions I answered grumpily with a “ Um”.

Hurriedly – without even saying a bye – he dashed out – to office.

That man had never been this way.

When the sky turned dark – clouds heavy – about to burst out –

he would glide me out – on a bike.

Together – in the pouring rains – thick showers would drench and engulf,

Him,  I would creep about –  holding cozily.

The rain would lash us, and whip all around – we would stop – far away from habitations – at a small shack that sells tea – hot and steaming.

Holding the tiny – transparent tumblers – in hands – trembling in chills, we would blow it and sip and let it slip down the throats warmly.

He would gulp the whole glass – in two swigs,  and sit by watching the rain falling as broken pieces of pearls.

The ride would start- all over again.

We would  go round and round in the rain unruffled.

On the bike. In the rain. Drops  dripping on us, and tumbling away in streams. The whole of the place. The roads. Alleys. Gullies. And at the end,  he would drop me back- to home

He knew more about the rain than what it seemed to our eyes. He would be animated with the rain. Would experience its smell. Its flavor. Its touch – as smooth as the bed of rose petals. He would savor every moment of the hilarity that the rain would usher in along.

The paper boats.

The colored umbrellas.

Childish games in the muddy waters.

Mirchi bujjies.

When it rained, he would be a changed person.

A stranger.

A someone – not himself.

Whoever!

“You’ll catch fever”.

“I don’t care”!

You’ll suffer cold”.

“I don’t care”!

What on earth would you say to such a man? A rain man who would carefully preserve the rain waters after gathering it in his cupped hands?

Comparison between with this man and the one at home? Silly.

I picked up the mobile and pressed his number on the touch pad.

He answered – after a couple of rings.

“It’s raining”.

“It is.”.

“Taking me out”?

“Right now”?

“ You busy”?

“Isn’t your man around”?

“Been to office”.

“If he gets back,  unannounced”?

“Let him”.

“If he spots us- being together”?

“Let him”.

He broke the call after a slight chuckle.

The rain has picked up – it’s pouring down heavily – with an accelerated splendor.

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