Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Thoughts on Rain

Of all the kinds of rain in the world, gentle rain is the saddest. Uncertain, nostalgia-inducing - umbrellas lying crumpled up inside school bags; the sudden wetness on the head as a raindrop wanders in; dark-leaved trees against grey grey sky; squelching through mud and ruining shoes.

Of all the kinds of gentle rain in the world, early morning gentle rain is the saddest. Who is it raining for? The streets are almost deserted. It reminds one of a theatre performance before an empty room - row upon row of empty seats; perhaps a few friends in the front row, looking uncomfortable.

Delhi as a city gets transformed by rain. Overnight, it becomes green and lovely and cold and nice and well-behaved and romantic. And then overnight it changes back into its hot hellish self. Everyone knows this. Everyone feels this. This city is different when it rains.

I offer you proof: every Delhi blogger has, at one time or the other, blogged about the rain. When it rains in Delhi, you will know, because you will read about it in some blog or the other. Have you noticed this with bloggers of any other Indian city? Do any of them say this? Or this? Would any of them even think of posting, "Oh, it rained today. Wow, it's so awesome. I love rain. I love rain in this city. I love this city." Mind you, they can only say that they "love this city" when it's raining. Otherwise it doesn't count.

I love rain. I love rain in Delhi. I love Delhi. On days such as this.
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