WINTER RAIN

T

he rain in summer subsides the heat. So, it comes as a saviour. But in winter, it is totally unbearable. Cold air, puddle-occupied path, swampy ground and dirty corridors. The weather allows not even a single handkerchief to dry, even if it be kept hung on balcony for a weeklong! Other washings? I fear those may simply succumb to the moisture locked in their fibres for so long and rot away, leaving nothing, only bad odour to its bearer.

For past two days, it’s been only a slight drizzle. And today, it’s complete rain. Allahabad is in rain. And rain is blessing us with cold.

In the evening, when the rain was less intense, we went to play our routine game. The lamp posts weren’t lit. Perhaps, it was intentionally left unlit by respective guards to let there be no players for the time at least. But adamant as the rain, we entered the ground only to besmirch our boots and to be scared back to the dormitory by the sudden thunder and lightning flash, followed by the winter downpour.

The corridors are even dirtier than was before, with the mud collected from the field and left upon there by our boots. If only the rain hadn’t fallen...

As I write, I could hear the groan from the sky and in my mind, I could see the dark clouds, pregnant with rain, overcast the already gloom sky. Any time, it could deliver the shower, last be it, I pray, upon us, rendering more cold. I can imagine the conditions of the poor now. I pray more philanthropists come to their rescue.

Weather forecast predicts sunshine tomorrow. Let it become a truth for the following day.

Be warm, folks.