Reign of the Rains.

There’s something about the bin-mausam-barsaats. These boys are very moody and need a huge amount of cajoling to make them pay us a visit. Saturday evening saw the Calcuttans looking upwards and recreating the ghanan ghanan ghir ghir aaye badra moment from Lagaan. And thankfully, unlike the movie, the boys obliged. Sunday morning I opened my eyes to find that, after flaunting her flaming orange gown for quite some time, my city had finally changed into a soothing grey and green chiffon. 

Out came the DSLR. Out came the umbrella. Could I miss capturing her looking so pretty? The terrace became my studio. She is such a wild model. Have a look.

“Dance with me, make me sway...”

“Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket...”

 “I would fly to the moon and back...”

  “It’s not easy being green...”

         “And I’m free fallin’...”

“I walk a lonely road…”

    “Knockin’ on heaven’s door...”

“Mama, I’m coming home...”

 

In all these years I still haven’t figured out whether I like or detest the rains. There is nothing more disgusting than walking into the air conditioned office with damp hair and specks of mud on your toes. There is nothing more amazing than getting drenched in the first rains of the season followed by a hot bath and oversized t-shirts. Shyat-shyate feeling in the house. Hate. Taking a Sunday nap under the blanket with the pitter patter in your ears. Love. Abhor wading through waterlogged streets and ruining churidaar elasticity. Adore making paper boats and sailing them in the same flooded lane.  Lack of transport/higher fares/traffic jams cause severe amounts of loathing. Khichuri/alubhaja/omelet bring obscene amount of happiness. Calcutta rains are my Dilli ki sardi.

Just the other day, we were discussing rain songs in office and it dawned on me that Bollywood has successfully made rain and romance synonymous.
Scene 1: Girl and Boy hate each other and are stranded in desolate place. First lightning strikes. She holds his hand in fear. Second lightning strikes. She pounces on him in utmost terror. Scene change. It is raining cats and dogs AND music. The two are dancing and proclaiming their love for each other.
Scene 2: Girl is of high class. Boy is of low class. It starts raining. Boy tries to control mad girl who wants to dance in rain. But fails. She prances around with her sparkly dupatta in the air.  Then suddenly she comes and kisses the Boy. Boy is thrilled. Girl is flabbergasted at her own actions and runs away crying. Thus begins the wooing.
Scene 3: Girl and Boy are best friends. Girl is dating someone else. Suddenly it starts pouring. Boyfriend is busy dancing and flirting with others. Girl is feeling alone and soaked and trying to save herself from getting wet. Boy graciously takes off his own jacket and covers her. Girl has moment of realization that the best friend is her love. Girl and Boy leave the party to waltz in an empty street.
Scene 4: Girl and Boy are strangers who meet every day at bus stand. First five days shy smiles are exchanged. Sixth day, it’s raining and the boy offers his umbrella to her. Girl forgets handkerchief and gets onto the bus. Boy picks up handkerchief like a piece of diamond.  Song begins with boy smelling handkerchief and girl hugging umbrella.
Scene 5: Girl and Boy are married. Tremendous fight going on. The sky turns dark. Girl runs up to terrace to bring the clothes. Boy follows her. Wind is so strong that the girl is almost falling. Boy runs up to help her. She looks away. He hums the song that he first sang for her. Girl melts. Chorus begins. Who cares about the clothes?
Scene 6: Oh just turn on a Hindi movie channel! You’re bound to find more!

So, yes, although I don’t personally believe this, we all know that the weather turning dark, cloudy and windy is directly proportional to a rise in the business of the telephone companies as well as the sale of red roses on the streets. However for me, rain s bring out a much bigger variety of emotions. Have you ever noticed that wherever you are and whatever you are doing, whenever the sky begins to thunder you automatically look outside or upwards in anticipation? Be it at school, where the children huddle around that window to get an inch of space to point out the portion of the sky that has turned jet black, be it at college, where the laid back youth bunk lectures and sit on the rock, taking a drag and waiting for the rains to drench their adda, or be it at office where all sophistication is forgotten and eyes keep shuffling rapidly between the office desktop and the window. Such is the childlike excitement that is evoked! And once the drops actually start falling, there’ll be comments like “Dekh, ki boro boro fota hoye porche!” or “Aaj toh mone hocche bhashiye I debe” or “Ebaba, amar ranna ghorer janla ta khola royeche”. Minutes seem like seconds, when you stare ceaselessly at the water ballet dancing on the roads combined with mental planning to grab the window seat in the bus, anyhow!

Temperatures take a nosedive. There is a slight nip in the air and as one heads home the excitement shifts gear to the culinary mode. Those who can whip up magic in the kitchen, can’t wait to get started on the patent bristi din er dishes, and for people like me who are born to just devour, can’t wait to pile the dinner plate with gorom gorom khichudi with aloo bhajas begun bhajas decorating the side and garnished with the aroma of gondho lebu. If the feeling of bliss ever became tangible, this would be how it would look.

“Bondhu tomay e gaan shonabo bikelbela”. Whenever I hear  this song, I can visualize a drizzly evening in a small town and a group of young boys with their hair wet from the bicycle ride, sitting casually in a courtyard sipping intoxication purchased with money saved up for such a day. Rain and friendships are like a crisp white shirt and ink blue denims. I remember getting a Whatsapp text from my group of besties saying “Aaj chaa aar piyaji ta jome jaabe, please office theke ferot aaye”. At these moments you feel immense hatred for employment and you want to pick up your bag and run back to the bohemian days spent having steaming maggi and staring out the foggy hostel bay window. Speaking of employment, the rains pay a hefty sum to nostalgia to do their job.

When I take out those earphones and pull up my quilt to my nose, an immense sense of being blessed overlaps me. We are privileged to enjoy the rain, appreciate it, and make indulgences. But for those, who call the streets their home, do they love the rains the way we do? The sight of a thin man arranging for a big blue piece of plastic to cover himself and his family of five still haunts me. I read a story where a boy was selling matchsticks and they all got wet due to the downpour and he was scared to go back to his employer as he would be beaten. Being a staunch animal lover, I feel so helpless when I see a puppy trying to find a shelter to prevent his little frail body from being cold. The domestic helps who travel long to come to the city lament on their one room house being flooded. My happiness at the rain consumes me with guilt. Is it right to be pleased at a thing which can cause such plight?

This weather makes my creative self go into turbo mode. From making patterns on the frosted window of the car, to making paper boats with shiny wrapping paper, from finding patterns in the dark clouds to carrying a stylish newspaper print umbrella, from making collages of moments spent with friends to downloading a rainfall live wallpaper for my Smartphone, from putting my DSLR to good use to writing this piece with Rim jhim gire sawaan playing on loop. Aah! Rains, you lovely lovely source of inspiration.

Didn’t I already tell you that rains make me very confused? I frown, smile, mentally smile, curse, cuddle, fight, sulk, beam, withdraw, hug, miss, be sad, be lazy, be hungry and a lot more. It makes me bipolar or maybe multipolar, if there is such a thing. To put it in a nutshell, Calcutta rains, I hate you like I love you.