Always
trust your gut instinct. Turns out, I was right the first time around, when on
hearing the unnatural sound of rain drops(not the usual pitter-patter), I rushed
out leaving my diary closed (after I finished the last page) to
see the hail stones, but returned disappointed.
Later on, I told Mama of my experience.
She said she was sleeping, but when she heard the sound, she looked around wildly for hail
stones. And I said ,"How could you be sure they were hail stones because
construction work is going on, and there are things on which the water from the
rain might fall and cause a sound ?" She then added that she heard on
yesterday's news that today with the kalbaisakhi showers hail stones
were expected. Aha, so while writing the
diary I wasn't wrong. Off the tangent, I don’t know why I
call it a diary when it’s actually a journal. Force of habit, I guess.
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” I whined. I
could have looked for them better. After all, when we are looking for something,
we usually find it. Again, we heard a sound similar to the one we had both heard
when the rains started. Without further ado, both of us ran (not literally). I rushed to my bedroom
window and craned out my neck. My mother was smart, she ran to the grill on the back
door which will give her a better view.
Ah, what a
sight it was. Hail stones, shiny round ice pebbles, pelting the ground. It was
surreal. I had half a mind to go with an umbrella and somehow experience it (with
a bodily injury?) or capture it for posterity with my feeble phone camera. But I
decided to just watch from the house, from different locations. The hail stone shower
brought back childhood memories, when I and my sister used to run into the rain
and collect them or picked up those which had come indoors, just so that we
could hold and feel them, and see them before it melted. So thrilling. Simple pleasures
and small mercies.
The world
washed anew.
The bela tree in front of my window looks reborn, with the young
green leaves looking more tender(if that’s possible), and the water drops
clinging to the thorns look as menacing as ever.
The
backyard is littered with shed leaves of bela tree and tagara plant and, also tagara flowers which
were dislodged in the rain due to the wind that blew with a gale force.
There is no
power. People have opened their doors and windows to let in the cool breeze after
a sweltering smouldering hot week. It had rained last Sunday too. A
weekly shower by the rain gods to save us from the heat, is it? Something is
better than nothing, I say.
The light
outside is wonderful. A cool breeze is playing. But I don't hear the children
playing. The streets are wet and the grounds are slippery. Unseasonal rain, perhaps
the parents have told them to stay indoors so that they don't catch a cold or
slip and fall. After all, back to school for them tomorrow .
When the
rain stopped I walked around outside and a took a few
pictures even though drops of water were dripping from the house and the trees. I shielded my phone as best as I could so that it
outlasts its life. It’s days are numbered but I’m reluctant to part, as always.
Natural
sepia light outside. There are dark clouds in the sky. More rain to come. The
constant low rumble of thunder.The sun
must be setting, the changing light says so. It's beautiful. Green leaves on
the swaying branches against dark clouds.I was lucky
to see a few lightning flashes in between.
This was a
long weekend for most ,with the holiday to vote (which was wasted on the kids
but they were delighted nevertheless), then Good Friday and the weekend. Hope
you all made the best (use) of it.
