On A Rainy Day

The gloomy weather welcomed the laziness in me. Taking time off from the work schedule is always a bliss. However, my profession doesn’t let me be free always. When I get time for myself I prefer being alone, concentrating on the portrait of Lord Krishna or watch the various happenings around me. I never fail to give family time too. Balancing everything in life is an art and even though I don’t have a Ph.D. in it, I am still no amateur.

Nothing is as refreshing as sitting on the front porch and watching the street. Refreshing here I meant, is grandmother’s house away from the city. Of course, the city I live in doesn’t give me a refreshing environment. The calm neighbourhood, the different trees planted in front of every single house, the fresh breeze, the view of the hills and grandmother’s Mysore filter coffee to sip, tell me what more can I ask for. Yes, I did ask for one more thing, rain, rain keeps coming again and again.

The tiny raindrop that touched my feet, felt like the very first drop that should have probably hit the ground, missed the earth and fell on me instead. As I sat on the front porch that evening, grandmother got me a hot cup of filter coffee and sat beside me. She remembered late grandfather and nagged about how many more years of life she was left with to live. She continued about how peaceful life was in the village and how crowded now it had become. I couldn’t resist but sip my coffee till the last drop.

“You always do this, never listen to what I say”, grumbled grandmother and brought me back to reality. It was then I realised I had stopped listening to her conversation. She got up and left, even before I could apologise. The rain started tapping on the earth’s bosom, the sounds were melodies to hear, taking me to hum some of the old classics of Mr Raja sir.

Rain opens memory lane, as a child, I would wait for rains to sail paper boats in small puddles. That feeling of traveling on a cruise would be nothing in comparison. Gone are the days, when we played badminton on the street. Progressing from tricycles to bicycles, trying some speedy U-turns and returning home with bleeding knees and bruised arms. All I knew then were indoor and outdoor games. Indoor were carom, chess, snakes and ladder and so many more. Outdoor were badminton, volleyball, cricket, hide and seek and what more. We always discovered new games.

I really don’t know if technology that way is a boon or a bane. We have progressed tremendously, but gone are those days where we came out to play, made friends in the neighbourhood, ate murukku, nipattu and other savouries together. But I don’t blame the kids of this time, where is the space to even play. Playing on the street might cost them their life. Well… well… well…”Get adapted”!!!!The best mantra. 

To get us back into the house even after sunset was a herculean task for mother. After a lot of hue and cry, we would settle down in our respective spots to finish our end of the day learning. Rains would mean even more a disaster, with none of us wanting to get back leaving the rain. Mother had to struggle to get us back into the house. After several faithful attempts, she would announce to a great grandmother that she failed. Great grandmother would step out and bribe us to a ghost story.

Great grandmother would wipe our wet face with a towel, dry our hair and help change clothes. We would be ready in no time to listen to the horror tale. She cleared her throat and started,

“Humming a nice folk song I walked towards the river to fetch a pail of water for grandfather for his daily chores, the birds joined me in humming the beautiful sweet song.”

The dense thick shrubs were always difficult to walk through, especially barefoot, which most of them had to during those days. She heard anklets jingle close to her and knew Malli was trying to pace up to her speed.

She called out to her,” Oh Malli, walk slow, it rained just yesterday and the shrubs are thorny, you may hurt yourself”. Malli laughed as she caught up with great-grandma, and said, “Veda, only you care so dearly, which is why I always feel like running towards you”.

Veda knew Malli was badly disturbed in her life. She was married off to a rich farmer almost three times her age. She often came to the river in the morning to narrate the tale of how badly she was handled the night before by the old farmer. She often came with bruises on her arms, bleeding lips and wounded thighs. Veda could never imagine being treated horribly. She was the biggest solace for Malli who often confided all her less known secrets. Veda always tried to help her and even made arrangements for her to leave the village. But Malli never had the courage to listen to Veda.

Malli seemed to be extremely excited and Veda couldn’t contain her thought and insisted Malli to tell her, her tale. For long Malli had never smiled and for Veda it was an unbelievable moment. They reached the river, Veda finished her morning ablutions and watched Malli sit on the step. For a brief moment, Veda was confused and asked her to bathe too. Malli was carefully looking into the river and told her that she couldn’t bathe.

The hummingbirds that stepped into the water to quench their thirst, flew away unhappily with a lot of fear and stress. The sweet chirp had now become a painful cry. The crows started cawing in great numbers. The surrounding felt extremely heavy and negative. Veda couldn’t understand the absurdity and questioned Malli. She feared the worst to happen. Malli was keenly observing the silent river and seemed to be in heavy distress. Veda got out of the river, quickly wiped her wet body and sat close to Malli.

Veda felt unduly uncomfortable to go close towards Malli. She was instinctive about the way Malli looked into the river. “Hey Malli, I don’t see why your seemingly upset today, life has its ups and downs and yes, the past life deeds determine your destiny. I am sure, one day God will open a way for you to walk free, please do not be this way, I fear to come close to you”, said a worried Veda.

Malli lifted her head, with teary eyes and told her, “Yes God opened the way, Veda, you’re my best friend in this life and my journey isn’t complete without bidding you the right Good Bye”. As Veda tried to look up at Malli, a shrill cry echoed from the village, Malli was not sitting on the river bed. Veda was tensed and left the river with the bundle of clothes in her hand. She forgot all about the pot she had brought to fetch the water. As she started walking past the thick shrubs, she remembered to have left the pot on the river bank. She ran stealthily to fetch the pot, while she realised someone had already filled the pot for her. She ran in fear of not wanting to look back.

Veda attended her friend’s funeral, knowing how much their friendship meant. For Malli, death was the only solace, but for Veda death wasn’t the ultimate penalty Malli deserved. With a grieving heart and a final goodbye, Veda returned home.       

Appu’s growl brought me back to the real world. He was my grandmother’s dog. The rain had stopped after lashing out and grandmother called out to savour her hot Bhajjis.