A fat wet raindrop day!!!

A fat wet raindrop day!!!

A fat wet raindrop day!!!

The sky was blue, the sun was yellow, and I was lost.
The glass panes of a skyscraper stared back at me, making me even more conscious of how out of place I was in the big, bustling Main Road .

All the people on the Main Road knew where they were going [in any case, it looked like they did]; they were purposeful, determined people on a mission.

What their mission was, I didn’t know, but they all looked confident in their well-tailored Gucci apparel and stiff, colorful silk saris.

Even the less well-dressed among them looked focused and self-assured as they strode along the busy thoroughfare.

Even the street dogs seemed to know what to do; growling threateningly at the spaniels and dachshunds that were strolling contentedly with their masters and mistresses.
. Cars honked, auto rickshaws sputtered, tongas hooted, scooters hummed and buses screeched.

The Main Road was in a state of organized chaos. This was unmitigated by the fact that the traffic lights did not work.

An auto was on the pavement, spewing oil and dust; struggling to maneuver through the intricate, ever moving maze of pedestrians.

The chaat-wala and the chai-wala were chatting amicably, swapping stories and sipping chai, but at the same time keeping a watchful eye on their respective stalls.

Beggars in rags stared at me, eyeing my warm clothes, making me feel grateful for my comfortable clothes.

Louis Vuitton and Prada glared at me, making me conscious of my own un-designer clothing.

There were thousands of people brushing past me brusquely. They all looked identical; the same purposeful, gritty look upon each face .But they were different underneath – with their own thoughts and fears. They were so alike, yet so different.

I was lost in the sea of humanity; stranded on a desert island while ships passed me every minute, no, every second.

The whole street was alive, bustling with activity, refusing to remain dormant for even a second.

Then it began to rain, and the world stopped moving.

A fat, wet raindrop rolled down my cheek and I licked it with relish, savoring the stillness of the moment. Then the world began to move again. Most of us stood under the roofs of shops, envying those who had had enough foresight to carry umbrellas.

For around fifteen minutes, the world seemed almost magical. I wasn’t in the countryside, where rain brings forth the glory of nature and in the span of fifteen minutes manages to make all the flowers in the meadow bloom [atleast that’s what all the books say].

I was in The Main Road, where the rain brings forth the glory of the sewer, and the only thing that blossoms in the irritation of the pedestrians. But still, it was magical.

The rain had cast a spell on the Main Road , i.e. it had broken the monotonous routine of the usually robot-like pedestrians. They no longer moved with machine-like determination. They stood under bus stands, clutching their shopping bags - their clothes dripping-wet , their shoes flooded with water and their hair disheveled.

For a few minutes,they were almost human. Then the spell broke, and the world began to move again.