Rain rain come again!

The date had already passed. All the predictions had been proved wrong. And it had still not arrived. It was the month of June in Mumbai. I carried a summer cap, water bottle and my heat baked body craving air condition every time I went out of the house.

The heat had got burned in my every cell and sweat was the second nature to me now. It is ok to be wet all the time, I convinced myself. As the days went by I actually started laughing on the intensity in which the heat was able to attack my body. This was completely new to me, especially for a person who had stayed in the northern cold temperatures for almost a decade. But it still rang a bell somewhere deep inside in my childhood. It reminded me of the unending play of summer vacations, the street treat called ‘Gola’ (ice mixed with flavoured syrups), pleasure of taking a cold shower any time of the day and the most promising treat of the season- Mangoes! I was loving every moment despite the heat and humidity tiring my body.

However, this morning when I woke up the weather had decided to surprise me, heavy grey clouds were looming in the sky and were almost mocking me with a promise of change. And then it happened.

Cool breeze started blowing in the house and I looked at everyone wide eyed. The breeze turned into strong winds and within minutes it came, breaking all predictions. The monsoon announced its arrival with a brilliant downpour of cold, soothing water. The diamonds of every raindrop twinkled in my heart and slowly swept me away in the glistening world. I never knew the contentment I could feel by this simple act of nature.

The trees danced and swayed to the rhythm of wind, revealing their true bright green colour; little rivers started contesting for their place on the ground. Little droplets blown away by playful winds then landed on my face and immediately relieved my soul. The fall of that heavenly water was dancing in my heart and it reminded me of millions of moments of my life that were part of it. Right from having hot ginger tea and pakodas to dancing on the terrace in the first rain , making paper boats that would float on the newly formed rivers and the most favourite -jumping in the water puddles ; it all came back to me.

Just when I thought, it could not get any better, a waft of enticing beautiful fragrance of the wet earth engulfed me. It was not a smell of flower nor of a perfume or for that matter not of a delicious food either. But the smell was purely earthly. It still held the power to take me back to my roots, to where I belong, to who I am. The feeling was so very new but still known to me from ages.

I ran to the balcony, eyes closed, stayed rooted to the place, to the place I belonged, to my own little heaven!