Back in my schooldays, we did not have rainy days, quite unlike most of my friends and colleagues now, who reminisce about rainy days like some long-lost treasure. It did rain pretty hard during monsoons, but being a dry area in general, the water would percolate quite fast, leaving the soil soggy and squelching. But I have recollections of beautiful moments spent on my bed or my study tables, hunched over a book, as it poured buckets outside...
The flickering flames: A heavy spell of rain inevitably meant a power outage. Back in those days, invertors weren't all that common, and we would have glass lanterns and candles lit up while I studied in its light ! Somehow, this always happened right before my Hindi exams, and I remember one particular evening, when the rain was lashing at our glass panes, while I was ploughing through a beautiful Premchand from my text book...
The crumpling pages: As the drizzle just commences when the sun is about to set, the first few, fat drops would plonk on the pages and magnify a couple of letters. I would brush them off or soak them on my clothes and they would leave damp depressions on the pages. Later they would dry out and become slightly wrinkled. Its the next best thing to dog-eared books.
The rain slashing across the panes: This continues to be the most romantic of all aspects. The rain water leaving diagonal trails across the window panes and its soft greyish shadow criss-crossing the pages of my book.
The cup of tea: Gently steaming, the vapours curling into the leaden sky. There is no such feeling than a mug of tea, an unputdownable book, a dog and a couch to curl up in. The only trouble is that the beverage runs cold quite soon, and then there is a dash to refill it.
No doorbells to attend to: Its the second most annoying thing to have to do; after attending to phone calls. Thankfully, a steady shower discourages people from seeking companionship outside their immediate surroundings, allowing me to sink in the pages unhindered.
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