The Quest For A Lost Period Of Time!

 

(Image credited to the respective owner)

Come June, and the first thing I do upon waking up is, checking the weather app for any intimation about rains.

Since as long as I can remember, June has heralded the arrival of rains. I remember those afternoons of my childhood, especially in the month of May, when the sky would temporarily darken with a passing cloud, only for the sun to shine down seconds later. The wait for rains would begin well early in the month of May itself. All I needed was to see even a single cloud and I would get excited, thinking that it would rain.

One of my favorite childhood memories is being woken up by my mother and hear her say excitedly, “It is raining!” Waking up to a rainy morning is nothing short of bliss! My childhood home had a large verandah and many a rainy day was spent in creating paper-boats and launching them on the water. My parents, my sister, my uncle, my grandmother – we all participated in this ‘boat race’ and created memories that would last for a lifetime.

The first rains were always meant to be soaked in! My friends, sister, cousins and their childhood friends all would rush out of our homes and enjoy the feel of the first rains. This was the only time we could afford to get wet in the rains. Only the first rains had no rules! Eating hot and spicy ‘Vada-pav’, the famed delicacy of Dombivli was definitely the best part of a rainy day.

There are many memories associated with rains. I remember wading through knee-deep water while going to school – nary a thought about ruined shoes or uniform, just plain, unbridled pleasure of sharing this wonderful moment with a friend beside me. I remember the rainy days that often greeted me the moment I stepped down at CSTM station to head off to work. Mumbai, while always enticing, gives off an other-worldly aura during rains. I remember the cloudburst that halted trains for two days, forcing me (and a zillion other commuters) to spend the nights in the office. It is totally another thing that my team mates made a picnic out of this. We went to the Gateway Of India which was quite near to our office, had dinner at Delhi Durbar restaurant (which was quite fancy those days) and watched a late night movie at Regal Cinema (just beside our office). Those were the days when Nokia had just launched its mobile and there was no social media to give us any information about the situation around us. We spent two blissful nights in oblivion.

Rain has always comforted me. I specifically have to mention that afternoon in a hall in Chennai when I lay down on a bed in a room and started panicking. It was after all the day before my marriage. I happened to glance outside the window and saw a light drizzle. I smiled, comforted by the scent of petrichor and the gentle patter of rain drops, soothing and comforting me as always. It was December and it usually rained in Chennai during this month. On the day of my marriage, it rained heavily. The elders assembled for the function made fun of me and my husband, stating that one of us must have eaten rice straight from a pan during our childhood. There is the saying that if one did so, it would rain on their wedding!

I remember the day when I woke up in the morning with a sense of dread. I was going to be operated that day for a caesarean delivery. The moment I stepped out of my house, accompanied by my parents, my husband and my in-laws, it started raining. A sense of familiarity and comfort washed over me and I walked with a relaxed mind, no longer anxious.

I remember the day when I had to leave my hometown Dombivli to permanently shift to Hyderabad. As I waved to my father who had come to the station to see me off, I held on to my kid, then just a year old, feeling extremely emotional. I was after all leaving behind everything familiar and dear to me. Few minutes later, it started raining. A magnificent rainbow formed in the sky, gladdening my heart and filling it with hope. The rainbow was visible for quite a long time in the journey. By then, my mind had calmed down enough.

It rained during my kid’s first birthday as well!

The rains have been a part of my life since as long as I can remember and they have made every occasion special.

Except that, Hyderabad doesn’t see much rainfall, at least the area where I live. From the month of June, the sky gets covered with dark clouds tantalizing with the promise of rains, but it rains very rarely, no matter how dark the sky gets. We can count in one hand, the number of times it rains in Hyderabad during the entire rainy season.

The memory of rains in Dombivli is fading slowly, I feel, as the days are now filled up with numerous responsibilities and tasks. Why, even Dombivli itself feels like it has drifted far from my mind. I visit the town every once in a year or sometimes in two years. Everything about the town feels familiar, yet nothing is the same. I myself have changed, the town has changed, the people feel like strangers and I long for a time of life that I experienced there, never to feel it again. Along with my childhood, teenage and early adult-life, the memories of Dombivli are fading, and so is the happiness and pleasure of the rainy season.

Even as I type this, the scent of petrichor wafts through the open window of my room and I hear gentle patter of rain drops. The rain makes a brief appearance, as if to remind me of the comfort and solace it used to bring to me, and before I can finish this sentence, it has stopped. My eyes well up as I yearn for rainy days and a blissful time of life in a small and cozy town named Dombivli.

But there is tomorrow, and there is the prospect of checking the weather and finding a forecast for rains, and with this hope in my heart, I will sleep tonight.