As Delhi or more precisely Gurgaon reels under 12-hour traffic jams and water logging up to the knees, I can’t help but wonder how much we crave for a respite from the heat and yet hate the rains for the problems it brings with it. Not have a few drops of water fallen on our heads that the city undergoes an undeniable transformation.
The rains hold a certain power over me. It does so over the entire city too, I presume. A power that’s unexplained, strange, and one which we cannot fight against. We welcome the first or even subsequent showers with a smile on our lips. The scorching days and accompanying layers of dust get a thorough beating as the city gets a fresh wash of cleanliness. But what it brings with it isn’t very welcome. Roads become muddier. Water clogs up to your knees everywhere. Potholes become bigger. The pace of everything slows down and of everyone quickens up. People jostle for space under the rain shelters, ruing the moment they stepped out of their homes. Metros run packed with rain-soaked people elbowing each other. Patience runs thin; tempers fly fast. Traffic lights blink off as parking lights blink on furiously. Puddles of water become gigantic waves, splashing over everyone in its path, as cars whiz through them. New shoes are ruined, freshly blow-dried hair goes limp, offices wear a deserted look as almost everyone is stuck due to rains/traffic jams and therefore running late.
Despite the looming greyness, there is cheer in the air. The light breeze caresses your cheek and ruffles your hair. Smiles become wider. Trees blossom, flowers bloom. Buildings shine brighter. Grass looks greener. The city comes alive in myriad colours in pretty umbrellas and flashy raincoats. Those stuck inside the confines of their offices long to get out. Mobile phones are whipped out for the mandatory rain selfie. Some creative ones make finger paintings on frosted windows. Roadside tea-sellers get booming business as steaming cups of masala chai and vegetable fritters become the universal favourite. Those venturing out ditch their cars in an attempt to avoid the potholes and traffic jams, opting for the reliable metro instead. On the radio, Punjabi peppy numbers are ditched in favour of romantic ballads.
As I stand in a corner in the cramped metro, my earplugs in place, listening to the melodies, I desperately clamp down the urge to tap my feet and swing my arms. My heart sways and sings along. Laughter rings out louder. Smiles become wider. The freshly awash city sing and dances; rejoicing in glee as its residents become poetic and fall in love with it once again.
Yes, the rains exert a strange power over me, and the entire city too.
Do you like the rains too? Or do you have it in you to resist the charm of the Rains? Do share your love or dislike for the rains via the comment box below.