It’s raining outside I don’t know what is more clouded the window or my thoughts, but there is a fog…a mist outside or maybe within. I am comfortable in the warmth of the blanket and the sound of the downpour reassures me of my blessings. Then again I don’t know if I would feel more blessed if I could just go out get drenched in the rain, play in the mud and sleep like it was the longest picnic of my life or am I blessed because I am comfortably sitting wrapped in a blanket shielded from the gushing rain outside.
As a kid all I knew was to roll up my pajamas and sing at the top of my voice in the backyard when it rained with the rain drowning out the noise of all the off key notes and the made up lyrics for a tune I liked and couldn’t sing to save my life but now I couldn’t do it…I don’t know which one got lost in all these years, the kid, the rain or the tune.
I could still remember the half punctured football we kicked around in the colony park marinated in the “keechad” and in those days we didn’t even have a commercial which said , “Daag Ache hain”, to save us from the aftermath at home. There is always this one house in every colony where the hungry gang of friends finds refuge in someone’s grandmother’s garma garam pakore and chai and we did too! It was us, our dirty clothes , our puppy eyes and rumbling stomachs that must’ve been the perfect package, come to think of it anyone would have fed us looking like that!
It is still raining outside but somewhere it had never stopped…
As a kid all I knew was to roll up my pajamas and sing at the top of my voice in the backyard when it rained with the rain drowning out the noise of all the off key notes and the made up lyrics for a tune I liked and couldn’t sing to save my life but now I couldn’t do it…I don’t know which one got lost in all these years, the kid, the rain or the tune.
I could still remember the half punctured football we kicked around in the colony park marinated in the “keechad” and in those days we didn’t even have a commercial which said , “Daag Ache hain”, to save us from the aftermath at home. There is always this one house in every colony where the hungry gang of friends finds refuge in someone’s grandmother’s garma garam pakore and chai and we did too! It was us, our dirty clothes , our puppy eyes and rumbling stomachs that must’ve been the perfect package, come to think of it anyone would have fed us looking like that!
It is still raining outside but somewhere it had never stopped…
Sanchita Johri
nicely written, also took me to my childhood days... those were amazing days... I want to read this again and again :)
ReplyDeleteAwesome !
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