Thick blanket of dark clouds rolled in with the rumbling thunder. Suddenly the day shed its bright attire and turned into the monstrous shade of gray. Such weather always fills my heart with sorrow. But soon the rains followed. The raindrops hopped onto the pavement before me with their legs crossed sometimes and sometimes in parrellel race against each other. I smiled under the umbrella of sorrow that had taken birth just a moment ago.
There are many times, I imagne myself to be a bollywood actress and turning my head to check for on-lookers I would perform a quick jig. Today there was nobody, all that stood between me and the rain was the transparent window glass. I could have performed the whole 'meri khawbo mein jo aye' in tiny miniskirt just like kajol without the fear of anybody laughing at me. I didn't want to be kajol. But, I wanted to dance. Just like I had done one rainy day, twenty years ago......
I was a ten year old girl,too naughty for my gender. It was the beginning of the monsoon rains and some how, rains always fascinated me ( even before I could play with my imaginations of bollywood actresses dancing in the rain). One such rainy day, sitting on the door of my house, some devil prompted me to get out in the rain,naked. I liked the way the rain drops danced on my bare skin, when slap! my dad's huge hands landed on my back. Whenever I see rain, I remember that day, the only time my dad used his hands on me in my three decades of life.
Today, seeing the rain, I missed my dad( add all other members of my family too). Just like on that day, I ran out in the rain, of course not naked, and started dancing. I closed my eyes and danced to the silent music of my heart waiting for that slap on my back. None came. Hot tears rolled from my closed eyes and mingled with the cold rainwater. And I continued dancing in memory of my family and the good old days.
There are many times, I imagne myself to be a bollywood actress and turning my head to check for on-lookers I would perform a quick jig. Today there was nobody, all that stood between me and the rain was the transparent window glass. I could have performed the whole 'meri khawbo mein jo aye' in tiny miniskirt just like kajol without the fear of anybody laughing at me. I didn't want to be kajol. But, I wanted to dance. Just like I had done one rainy day, twenty years ago......
I was a ten year old girl,too naughty for my gender. It was the beginning of the monsoon rains and some how, rains always fascinated me ( even before I could play with my imaginations of bollywood actresses dancing in the rain). One such rainy day, sitting on the door of my house, some devil prompted me to get out in the rain,naked. I liked the way the rain drops danced on my bare skin, when slap! my dad's huge hands landed on my back. Whenever I see rain, I remember that day, the only time my dad used his hands on me in my three decades of life.
Today, seeing the rain, I missed my dad( add all other members of my family too). Just like on that day, I ran out in the rain, of course not naked, and started dancing. I closed my eyes and danced to the silent music of my heart waiting for that slap on my back. None came. Hot tears rolled from my closed eyes and mingled with the cold rainwater. And I continued dancing in memory of my family and the good old days.
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