As The Rains Came Down.

Standing alone in the balcony, one solitary evening, she watched the tiny raindrops transform magically from a light drizzle to a heavy thunderous downpour. Flying away with the strong winds she was transported many a year back.

As the sun started playing hide and seek, the rickshawallahs and kokilas would usher in the rains in harmony. Rain quenched the thirst of the parched earth and brought relief and joy to everyone. As the sky became overcast with dark menacing clouds, people rushed out to their balconies looking up expectedly. As the wind picked up, birds hurried to return back to their nests and trees started to  sway from side to side and this heralded the arrival of pure bliss. Then, with the royal accompaniment of thunder and lighting, when the showers finally arrived, this was nature at its seductive best.

Holding ma’s hand, as the little girl, while returning from school on sweltering summers school days, it was God sending down a gift when it rained. Wrapped beautifully in the mild breeze preceding it, which slowly picked up momentum and converted to a storm, He above made sure she enjoyed it. She would jump over muddy puddles staining the school uniform and white shoes with streaks of brown mud and dirt. Ma would hurry her back home to avoid catching a cold, but she would try and delay it as long as possible and hop around in glee. As soon as she entered home, dida would rush to her with a spotless towel and wrap it around her. A bath in warm water followed, which according to dida would prevent all sorts of sicknesses. Evenings meant making boats out of old newspapers and setting them on sail on puddles and overflowing drains, hoping they’ll reach a stranger in some quaint mysterious land.

The years flew by. She started looking forward to rainy evenings for a variety of reasons. Rain meant the intoxicating smell of the earth afterwards and a dinner of hot khichudi and a variety of fries.

It reminded her of watching the dadas playing football in the mud. It reminded her of walking in the pouring rain holding hands with a childhood lover and the hopes of a “happily ever after”. There were always those little children who’d take off their shirts and run and prance about. Dadu’s big black umbrella finally came to its proper use and not as a walking stick.

Then, there were the periods of heartbreak. Of crying in the rain to camouflage the tears. Eventually the rain washed them away, along with the sorrows. It brought with it the sunny pleasant day, the next morning. It reminded her of those long drives with her better half and sticking her head out of the car enjoying the freshness of the cool drops on her face. She smiled at the thought of her grown up daughter as an infant, fascinated by rain and terrified of thunder.

Rains were beautiful. It took her breath away and made her fall in love with life. All over again. It re affirms her belief in Him above and that he listens to your prayers and sends down these occasional surprises. There was always something so refreshing and romantic about rain. Standing in the balcony feeling the spray of water on her face and letting her hair loose for the wind to play with, she smiled.

Happiness, is rain.

Clicked through my phone camera from my balcony.
Clicked through my phone camera from my balcony.


This post, was actually written just about a year back. Back then, I did not have a blog. So today, after the refreshing rains, I was reminded of this. Hope you enjoyed reading it!


To Be Brutally Honest.

There seems to be this common game of sorts doing the rounds on social media. On an extremely personal front, I would never do this publicly as I feel every relationship has its own secrets and nuances and in my life, I’d rather include all of those in a tbh and send it as a personal message.
This post is extremely personal in nature. It isn’t a tbh for a particular person but instead is just series of absolutely random thoughts. They have no link as such with one another and is just musings which I chose to write down.

To be honest, I’ve come to realise, the dual nature of rains. There are days when the overcast skies seem to make you feel blessed and loved. The rains seem refreshing and romantic. Long walks, getting drenched and coffee seem to make the best of days. The rains can also change your mood for the worse and make it unnecessarily sad, gloomy and melancholic. It’ll bring back memories and can ruin lots of plans.

To be honest, is there really a faint line drawn between infatuation and love? And is there any possible way to find out when you’ve crossed it? What happens when you perhaps, realise too late? It is perhaps stupid and pessimistic but “once bitten and twice shy” seems to sum up a lot. It’s difficult to trust the same way again and hope for the better. I know letting go always works best. Second best is having zero expectations from anything or anyone. You can never be hurt that way. Trying your best will yield no results, you’ll find no answers and then one fine day it wont affect you at all. You’ll take decisions, make mistakes and learn a lot in the process. Yet there’ll be days when you’ll want to believe it all and in the end, hope always wins. Love is a strange word indeed.

To be honest, I attended my first college fest, Sanskriti recently. Fests at Jadavpur University and the OAT have a charm of their own. Not just fests, everything. It has just been around 8 months in college and already, there are memories attached to every nook and cranny in campus. From taash, adda, music and lots of cold drinks in worldview to serious discussions with my best friend at Moni da’s canteen, Jadavpur teaches you a lot in its own way. Most importantly I feel, it teaches you to accept. Accept all the different kinds of mindsets and people and in the end, you’ll blend in and start loving the place. There have been colourful great days spent happily chatting, eating and cracking jokes. Others, spent worrying, consoling and cribbing. Whether its serious matters, mindless banter, romantic talks or just sitting idle, the campus has a perfect spot for it all. There’s a lot that goes on, but Jadavpur feels like home. Always.

To be honest, there are more people who care than you think there is. I speak for myself, but when I put up one slightly negative WhatsApp status, I get unexpected pings asking me if anything is wrong. I really believe, what happens, always happens for the best. Even when times are dark and you ask the question “why me?”, you could always answer that with the fact that every person has problems in their life. Try being there for as many people as you can when they’re down and maybe, you’ll actually feel better about your own life. Make someone smile, give someone a hug and tell someone you love her/him and believe me, your day will be made. Some talk about it, some don’t, some problems are more major than you think it to be and then maybe you’ll realise, that your problems are perhaps not all that huge. And it passes by. It always does. You can try having faith in time.

To be honest, this post is perhaps stupid, exceedingly long and very few people will actually take the trouble of reading it all, but I went on a holiday recently to Kerala. My next post will be about that, and I promise it’ll be colourful and full of amazing pictures. Kerala, is quite rightly called God’s own country.

At the Kovalam Beach.
At the Kovalam Beach.

Each of the individual points perhaps deserve a post of their own, but well.