Saturday, July 4, 2015

Under our Umbrella...




You think rain and all sort of images conjure up...for me, it is a nice cup of hot tea, a book (maybe a kindle), sitting by the window and some uninterrupted reading time, all to myself, all by myself, with the rain drops performing a symphony on their stage of the windowsill.
It also makes me want to sing and dance, and actually believe in the romance of life.

Aahh...rain....where art thou?

The sun is sizzling, the roads are hot, mirages are dancing on the tarmac, the trees are losing their green hope and turning to brown despair again. The metal in the street is hot to touch, and the dust is flying free in this torturous reign of rising temperatures. The phone is still buzzing with messages for "summer sale" from retailers, clearing away what they though was the last of their summer stock, more needs to be re-ordered. Ice creams and cold drinks, fired from the show, have been given lead roles again. Raincoats that eagerly stumbled out of moth balled closets, have been stuffed back in where they belong.

And to think we thought the last of the hot, dry days were behind us!

In that moment, when we thought we couldn't hate the sun anymore, couldn't envy its power anymore, couldn't take its unmerciful beating anymore, it gave way. The hot afternoon, suddenly turning dark, clouds looming overhead, threatening to spill if given an oh-so-tiny nudge. You wait, you watch. You have been tricked before. And not until you feel the first wet drop on your outstretched palm, are you going to believe that "acche din" are here!
Breath held in, palms outstretched, balancing on one leg (See Modi and yoga are not very alien from daily life), we wait and we wait.
And then - plop - comes down the first drop!
And Hurray! We celebrate, we dance, we play, we rush out to the destinations beyond the city to enjoy the rains - all because we believe the first drop of rain, cleared the path for the rest of the drops to make their way down to us.

But alas, the first drop, now looks like the reject material sent down to us, at a discounted price, to be enjoyed till it lasts, which is not going to be very long - well, because you know there is a reason you are paying a discounted price of the item!

The dance and play soon tires us with the sun cruelly grinning overhead, the rain destinations look at us quizzically, like hosts would at guests who turn up early for a party, wondering how we get fooled by the fake, first plop drop, every time!

And we travel back to (in time and space) to our mundane lives, complaining about the sun under our breath, lest he hear us and impose an emergency (heat storm, is what i meant) and then god knows when we will be able to get rid of him (5 years i should think!). Life goes on - the same place, the same people (ministers), the same intentions (corruption), the same drama (scandals).

Quite like our Indian government, you thought it would get better, but we keep swimming (that would be wrong, you would need WATER for that). Ok, then maybe you keep rusting in the hot (bure) days, waiting for the "acche din", but it seems like every scandal, every corruption, every breaking headline, has been borrowed from the previous ruling party, and no one has even bothered dressing up the characters differently, or changing the circumstances just a tiny little bit.

But we are a hopeful lot, looking into the future, try to shape it to meet our needs.
Beyond the blazing, selfish sun rays, we can see the clouds regrouping to "Rain in India"
Beyond the inept, corrupt ministers, we see the struggle of one man and his honest hard working team,  to "Make in India"

And as Indians, hope rests in our soul.
Every drop, however solitary, is going to remind us, not of the slush, the grime, the non-functioning drainage system, but of greenery, romance and life !
 


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