Rain, rain...

I had an errand to run today morning. In my typical mommy-brain state, I forgot to carry an umbrella. As I dashed to my car I felt the raindrops skim against my skin, like an old friend I was meeting after a long time. I sat in the car and watched the water pour down the windscreen, the wipers slashing through the deluge. The scene brought long forgotten lines of a song to mind.

"Magar mujh ko lautaa do bachapan ka saavan

woh kaagaz kii kashti, woh baarish kaa paani"

After the kind of year it's been, nostalgia hit me like a brick. I found myself longing for the old days, when life was simpler and days happier. Challenges didn't seem insurmountable and stress was something I experienced occasionally.

Not to say that everything was rosy when I was younger. Human nature is programmed to mostly long for the other side, which we are convinced is always greener. What we don't realise is that when we are on that other side, the vibrancy of the colour invariably fades.

Rain has always held a special place in my heart. I was one of the few people I know who shunned a winter wedding and got married in the peak monsoon season. The day before the wedding, it rained like it had never rained before. We were convinced the outdoor wedding we had planned would be a disaster. But the next day dawned bright and clear. My favourite way to unwind used to be to take a walk in the rain and so far, nothing has topped the feeling of swimming in the rain-water everywhere and raindrops on my face. Some of my fondest memories consist of a richshaw ride in the rain, in north campus, having hot chai and butter toast in the Saket Sports Complex admist the raindrops falling on us and a rare scene of Sameer laughing unabashedly as we dashed to our car in the rain, after catching a movie.

Three of the best years of my life were the college days. Life stretched out in front like an empty canvas, waiting and prepped to be painted upon with whatever scene I wanted, in whichever hues I chose. The biggest tension was whether to have chowmein or choley bhature in the college canteen. The library was my sanctuary, I would often wander in even when I didn't have any new material to look for. The shelves filled with books, reaching for the ceiling. The smell of books, some old, some new. The whirring of fans, their noise unbroken in the silence of the rooms. And when the rain joined in the chorus, pattering softly on the roof, the days took on a magical feel.

Days were filled with hot coffee, samosas and the company of friends.  I miss those days. When dilemmas consisted of whether to go to Dilli Haat or Ansal Plaza. Where bunking a class and getting away with it, sent our hearts thudding with excitement. Where words took us into worlds we could only imagine about. And in the background of it all, for a few months every year, the rain adding a realm of coziness to everything we did.

I finish my errand and return home. There is an umbrella in the boot of the car. I sit for a minute and contemplate getting it. Then I open the car door and slowly walk home. The rain embraces me, reminding me that sometimes the simplest pleasures of life can be the greatest de-stressors.