The rain always brings special memories of my childhood and college days. It was a family tradition to welcome the first monsoon shower by stepping outside and literally dancing in the rain. The first rain showers were the sign of the end of the summer. I still remember the scent of the first rain, the petrichor, and wonder if you can still smell it now that there are fewer trees and more pollution where I grew up.
Although shopping for a new pair of gumboots was the highlight of the monsoon fashion season, often the water level on the streets was high enough to fill them and make them useless. Walking home from school involved several stops to take off the gum-boots and empty out the water. This was made harder by the fact that we had to carry our schoolbags on the top of our head so the books did not touch the water. Any challenges that the rain brought was quickly forgotten with a steaming cup of tea and the delicious pakoras. I still make, or at least dream of making pakoras when it rains.
The rain could be full of surprises, too. I took the train to south Bombay on my way to an interview, and got soaking wet because I was too close to the door. I enjoyed every minute of it, and knew that the interviewers would understand if I showed up in wet clothes. Well, it was sunny and dry at the destination, but the hospital I went to was kind enough to give me some towels to dry up, and scrubs to wear to the interview.
And there was the trip to Pune with my PT classmates! Wading through the water with suitcases on our heads, not thinking for a minute that the train to Pune would most likely be canceled. Fighting our way on to one of the few trains that was not canceled. And breathing a sigh of relief when it was only drizzling in Pune, not pouring as it was in Bombay.
My first rain in Chicago was very different. I wanted to go out and enjoy it, but it was April and a very cold 45 degrees Fahrenheit outside. I sat at the window and stared at the rain for hours, wishing to be consumed by the fragrance of the first rain.
I miss that rain. I don't miss the floods, and the challenges, but I have fond memories of those. Warm or cold, a drizzle or a thunderstorm, I absolutely love the rain!
Although shopping for a new pair of gumboots was the highlight of the monsoon fashion season, often the water level on the streets was high enough to fill them and make them useless. Walking home from school involved several stops to take off the gum-boots and empty out the water. This was made harder by the fact that we had to carry our schoolbags on the top of our head so the books did not touch the water. Any challenges that the rain brought was quickly forgotten with a steaming cup of tea and the delicious pakoras. I still make, or at least dream of making pakoras when it rains.
The rain could be full of surprises, too. I took the train to south Bombay on my way to an interview, and got soaking wet because I was too close to the door. I enjoyed every minute of it, and knew that the interviewers would understand if I showed up in wet clothes. Well, it was sunny and dry at the destination, but the hospital I went to was kind enough to give me some towels to dry up, and scrubs to wear to the interview.
And there was the trip to Pune with my PT classmates! Wading through the water with suitcases on our heads, not thinking for a minute that the train to Pune would most likely be canceled. Fighting our way on to one of the few trains that was not canceled. And breathing a sigh of relief when it was only drizzling in Pune, not pouring as it was in Bombay.
My first rain in Chicago was very different. I wanted to go out and enjoy it, but it was April and a very cold 45 degrees Fahrenheit outside. I sat at the window and stared at the rain for hours, wishing to be consumed by the fragrance of the first rain.
I miss that rain. I don't miss the floods, and the challenges, but I have fond memories of those. Warm or cold, a drizzle or a thunderstorm, I absolutely love the rain!
So interesting to read this, because the weather patterns we grew up with are so engrained in us. I've now lived quite a bit longer the the Bay Area than anywhere else, though, and I think of rain as a winter phenomenon, with some chill. And I love listening to it. In both my Midwest US childhood and my life in the Bsy Area, rain comes as a relief and something to be celebrated, even when it causes destruction. My body gets hungry for rain over even a "normal" year.
ReplyDeleteI agree, Cathy. The monsoons were fairly destructive in many ways, but such a necessary part of our life. Much as I miss that rain, I would be lying if I said that I wanted to visit during the monsoons. But I always celebrate it. Like you, I see the rain as something to be celebrated and it really makes me happy.
DeleteAnd rain is conducive to writing!
ReplyDeleteAgreed. Very conducive to reading, too.
Delete.....and napping.
DeleteHa ha, of course.
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeletewoow, very well drowned in words that part of your life..and yes I think rain is has a great power of storing memories...and this is great example for you remembering every single detail from far away...Iit is raining over here too..one thing in common weather.
ReplyDelete