This time it's more than pitter-patter

I like the sound of pitter patter. Rabindranath Tagore called it "tapur-tupur". Raveena Tandon sang "tip-tip barsa pani". You can choose your own words. 
Like, rain is falling chama cham cham... actually this is clearly an understatement in Gujarat right now. Raining cats and dogs, if this expression can cover all the cats and dogs of the world.

3 years ago, before joining the college, I had asked a family friend, who had been studying here then, to describe Surat. She had said “it rains all the time”. I had shamelessly displayed all my incisors in ecstasy. Rains, I love.

It brings out the lazy, the foodie and the romantic in me. There’s the cool breeze that splashes the raindrops on your face. My lush green campus becomes oh so green! I lie in my bed all day long, cuddle with my pillow, imagining I’m on a bike ride and he stops to buy me a hot bhutta. Mushy daydreams aside, rains give me a craving for bhajiye and chai. There were days when I used to dance in rains. Whatever happened to that, I wonder? My nanaji’s anecdote pops into my mind. When he was young, whenever it rained, the school would be dismissed. I mean, isn’t that AWEsome!!

And this time the heavens poured just a couple of hours before my exams. And boy, did they pour! They had to actually announce that the exams have been postponed. I wake up because of the blaring noise that the public announcement system is, and I find my batch-mates dancing like peacocks. What a sight (And we are a bunch of clumsy gals). While panic was about to strike the city, a new lease of life was awarded to us students.

Then came the awkward moment when no one really knew what to do with this sudden freedom. And was it freedom indeed? I mean, we all knew we can shift+delete all the mugging. We can sleep. We can dance. We can yell.  We can do all that pleases us, within the threshold of the hostel. So this is going to be like stranded in the safe, albeit boring havens of H-12, the quintessential girls’ hostel.

And stranded we are. We have all the food, the water, the wifi- the basic necessities of everyday, mundane life. We can hop about, like a frog. We can go to each others’ rooms, to download into our external storage devices, the movies they have and we don’t have. We can listen to the radio; they are playing some of the sexiest songs of the 90’s. We can (as advised by our grey eminences and ignored by us all) utilise this time to study some more.

I, on my part, have been doing all this with a new found gusto. I am reading Agatha Christies. I’m day-dreaming big time. I’m eating all the biscuits and dry fruits I could hoard in this time of emergency. I’m listening to my favourite rain-song “Saawan barse tarse dil...♥”. I’m liking and commenting on facebook updates and uploads. I’m talking to my ma round the clock to know how much water has Ahmedabad received. I’m convincing my papa I’ll step carefully on the glazed tiles and through the water puddles and not slip/skid/fall like I’m prone to.  

Then there’s the municipality’s praise-worthy feats of cleaning and recovery that one hears about. There are also many crusades my fellow comrades are pursuing in an attempt to live their own version of Prison Break (read once again our safe havens of H-12J) I, myself, am thoroughly enjoying my days in the VIP cell: P

I would like to sign off now, with the hope that the rains will come to a stop and sunshine once again spread in our lives (literally as well as figuratively). Meanwhile, I advise all to list and listen to their favourite rain songs. J