The sound of rain

I spent a part of my life in Baroda, Gujarat. It was a relativitely small city and would take barely an hour to go from one end to other. I used to live in a colony called Manhar park. Surrounded by lush green trees Manhar park was a peaceful area. I remember a lot about that place. And can give a vivid description too. The flowers that adorned the walls on the main street, the German shephard which would bark incessantly at me and the lighthouse which was rumoured to be spooked, the dhobi who would buy me toffees everytime I met him.

But one thing I clearly remember about the city is the excitement rains brought with them. The day it would rain heavily, the street would turn into a muddy stream, our own version of the nile! People would swim in it.! Literally.Sometimes it would rain so much that we would have a day off. We would all go to the park and dance like retards! throwing muddly water at each other and splashing in pools. One after the other, I would tirelessly make paper boats from the little hands which after going with the flow, would be out of my sight.

The smell of freshly made pakoras would penetriate in my nostrills and would tingle my taste buds.Once me and my friend while playing in the rain, caught a toad and brought it home. What days were they!

Now after six whole years, I am in Mumbai. It does rain here. Probably ten times more it rained in Baroda. But it doesn't excite me as it did earlier.  There are no muddy water fights, no days off, no dancing, no best friend.

But, i still eat pakodas :)