Powdery , Poona Rain...
Getting wet in the rain can either be a murky memory or it can be the most ethereal experience. For me it has been a combination of both. I came to Pune around a year back from Delhi-the most amazing thing that I found about this city was its climate – you can never call it extreme.
The overcast blue sky, littered with dark clouds and dashing against the hills is any poet’s paradise. The noise of the birds add life and zest to the environment. The fragrance of the jasmine flowers and the red roses also fill up the streets and somehow dilutes the irritation of the traffic jam.
A person like me who came from North India and who has experienced “dilli ki sardi “and also the infamous “dilli ki Garmi”, I tell you the climate was breeze. The month of June was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. The way from my home to Office is an experience in itself. Th drizzling ,powdery rain which seeps through your environment is beautiful. The streets flooded with colours of raincoat and umbrella, the luscious fruits with the fruit vendors is a sight that soothes and the tea at the restaurant is inviting.
The eating joints also synchronise with the rain food and sometimes dihes out really delicious “pakoras” with the ginger tinged “Baarish waali chai.” The view of the Sinhagarh Hills becomes an awesome sight and in our tea breaks we admire those hills with our chattering group of friends, sharing are happiness and worries.
The prittle and prattle of the rain in our office glass panes somehow synchronises us with our environment ,the water doesn’t get in but the outside view through our blue glass wall is lovely.
Poona rain will always remain a beautiful memory etched on my mind as this poem that I have composed says ,
Crystal drops falling from the sky,
Drops of joys ,drops of pain.
Mingling in my blood and vein
Incessant from the sky
Rain .Rain ,Rain.
The beauty of the skies
The rhythm of the wind
The symphony of the light
Like a dreamers delight
Rain, Rain, Rain.
The weaving of light and colours
The criss cross of agony and bliss
Like ashimmering fabric
The rainbow appears, after the
Rain, Rain, Rain
Thirsts are quenched
