From the sixth standard to eight we were asked to memorize the essays about A Rainy Day, A Railway Coolie, A Washerman, A Postman and The Teacher. This essay has a tinge of the childhood, the bounce of youth and serenity of old age.
\nAll seasons are pleasant if you\u2019re well protected against the hardship and havoc that they generate. Summer is real cool, romantic and salubrious if the room is air-conditioned and the curtains are made up of Khus reeds; winter is beautiful if your wardrobe is full of the woolen garments for every occasion, if the rooms are warm with electric heaters; and the rainy season is wonderful when you just have to walk into your car parked at your portico. An official chauffeur is an added bonus. However, even a short summer spell is a hell if you are living in a tin-shack or a stuffed hovel under the scorching sun; winter is a nightmare, a torment and an ordeal if the cold winds are entering through the chinks of your cottage, your quilt is riddled with holes, your blanket is tattered. The life a curse if your salary fails to make the both ends meet in any season. You are in for a miserable perdition. Achche Din are not for you.
\nThe bounties of nature are created for all living beings or so they say also. I do also believe in that. And sometime when I walk on the road, all of a sudden the sky turns grey dark with heavy clouds, a pleasant wind blows from across the open spaces, I watch with curiosity the unfolding scenario before me. Passing along side a park hedge or a field, you enjoy the music of nature free of cost. Then silently and slowly it begins with a drizzle. You feel the moist spike upon your face. It is the dear water, the great facilitator of life. You know that farmers need it to grow their crops, the wild life to survive and the streams to replenish; the dams to generate electricity. The tiny droplets of water bring a new hope, distant memories and a vibrant romance. You feel like crooning the famous lyric \u2013 \u201cTak dhina dhin, dina dhin, tak dhina dhin, Barsat me, tak dhina dhin Barsat me, humse mile tum sajan, tumse mile ham. Barsat men\u2026..\u201d<\/p>\n
And abruptly the sweet dream is shattered with a loud horn and hard calling from a \u2018Grameen Seva transport\u2019 which has almost bumped into your posterior. You come back to real life. Till now it was raining slowly and cool breeze was washing your face. You look around and feel comfortable with several other set of people who are still walking composedly without umbrella. You think they are also the lovers of mist and gentle rain or may be, they are still not conscious or aware of changed weather. The world is full of frivolous introverts. You look at the unapologetic driver and before you could express your indignation he is gone.
\nNow the drizzle seems to be turning into a real rain. You\u2019re still adamant. You do not want to move fast. For you, it brings a new hope and big relief in an unbearable hot summer. Being an eternal Indian optimist, you brood about plants, trees, birds, animals and parched soil that wait for the rains eagerly. You still want to walk slowly. In fact all the flora and fauna is patient as they were getting prepared to welcome the rainy season. Everyone is expecting a refreshing relief and comfort. Soon there will a Rain Bow when the sky clears up \u2013 the beautiful rainbow that you haven\u2019t seen since you arrived in this cosmopolitan city. Nearby in the city forest, you picture the whole environment would present a very attractive and beautiful scene.
\nBut your destination is still far off. On the road, the elders are also wading slowly in the rain and getting wet. They are now walking in knee deep water. Vehicles cycles and scooters were splashing water on the pedestrians. No one is caring about anyone. It has not been even an hour since it had started raining.<\/p>\n
You are left with plenty of time to reach home. In the splashing intervals you also want to walk throug the memory lane. You try to recall the field trips of Lonavala, Matheran and Nanital when you had accompanied the college groups that had toured these hill stations. Once and again the mist had suddenly surrounded the lake and road side. The clouds had engulfed the bodies of all touring team like soft cotton. The unforgettable thrill was descending upon earth as the students of all genders were unwittingly albeit accidently losing spaces. There were dreams and new hopes of those days that inspire you when you\u2019re young. Life in that phase is so full of attractions and promises. Every hurdle, every block seems surmountable.<\/p>\n
But lo, now it starts thundering and lightings and heavy rain. The mind says \u2013 stop and take shelter under any canopy. The heart says \u2013 no. Move on, carry on as you used to stroll at Marine Drive when the rain was falling from the sky and the waves of Arabian Sea lashed the sea-wall. You were enjoying the geysers and fountains of nature at the most expansive landscape of the world. That was the real life though with little resources to support it. Surely, it was worth living that day as one of your most loyal and loving friends had accompanied you at \u2018Purohits Thali\u2019 that was the most reasonably priced and finest in the city.\u2018Purohits\u2019 was a tasty joint at Church Gate of Bombay of those days. You had put aside the money from your meager salary to stand that treat. What had happened after that? You don\u2019t want to blame or recollect who ditched whom. Things look beautiful when they are seen from a distance of time and space. Years later, still in Bombay, you would put a CHAWANNI (four anna coin) into the slot of majestic \u2018Song\u2019s Machine\u2019 at Irani Raza Ali\u2019s Hotel to listen the famous song \u2013 \u201cWaqt ne kiya who haseen sitam, hum rahe na hum, tum rahe na tum.\u201d It was sad memory but not the end of the life.<\/p>\n
Let me switch over from \u2018You\u2019 to \u201cI\u2019. It is now raining cats and dogs. Opinions and mood often switch fast. It all depends upon where you are at the moment, where do you live and what your do for a living. I\u2019m back on the real road. As I am watching the scene unfold, I hardly notice the people rushing and running around me. I\u2019m staring fixed at the same flowing filth, the dirty stream of drain water that had submerged the hitherto tolerably clean street. Being an elder boy I\u2019ve to think of fetid puddles, killing pot-holes and broken road. I have to move, to jump and skip and splash before the others would do. An old man and his wife are struggling to walk straight at the crossing. What can I do for them? Perhaps they need no help. They have had already traveled long enough at the road of life. No more is left for them but the casual strolling in the twilight. Further off in a concrete drain and a dog has been stuck in it. He can\u2019t come out. I pass the buck. God would take care of its fate. To my left, a long black car swishes past with grace. Perhaps the people inside are discussing their affairs that must be very important.<\/p>\n
Now the sky is clearing and the blue dome is visible in the chinks of cloud. There is some respite. The rain has fizzled off. The white, brown and dark black puffs of the clouds are still hovering in the sky. The sun is weakly cresting. The trees and plants got a wash of the week. The trees are now covered with new washed green leaves. The lawns and fields are covered with the great green velvet grass with a sheen. All the natural water resources such as pits, rivers, ponds, lakes, ditches must have been filled with water in the countryside. Roads and playgrounds are full of water. Children are having fun in the rain. They are splashing water on one another some were making paper boats others were chasing pieces of straw and paper that were flowing in the gutter.
\nI\u2019m back home. Rain has actually added scenic beauty to the environment and in my life. All birds are happy. They were also tired of heat and dust. Frogs are croaking in the neighborhood graveyard. I put on my radio and again a Barsati song is played here. I’d recently purchased the radio set to listen ‘Man Ki Baat.’<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
From the sixth standard to eight we were asked to memorize the essays about A Rainy Day, A Railway Coolie, A Washerman, A Postman and The Teacher. This essay has a tinge of the childhood, the bounce of youth and serenity of old age. All seasons are pleasant if you\u2019re well protected against the hardship […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":338,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1621","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.amroha.co.in\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1621","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.amroha.co.in\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.amroha.co.in\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.amroha.co.in\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/338"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.amroha.co.in\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1621"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"http:\/\/www.amroha.co.in\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1621\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1628,"href":"http:\/\/www.amroha.co.in\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1621\/revisions\/1628"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.amroha.co.in\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1621"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.amroha.co.in\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1621"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.amroha.co.in\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1621"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}