barsaat, circa long ago

The deluge was mighty. The smell of barsaat was in the air. The sound of constant patter as the raindrops hit the concrete, the stone, the steel pipes. As they splashed against one another, against puddles, forming ripples. The rain was so fast, so much, it was almost blinding. You couldn’t see past the curtain of beads of water that were everywhere. There was so much water on your head. You would wipe some away, whether by hand or arm or by blinking, more droplets would fall to take its place. You almost gave up. Strategically wiping your eyes, so as to have visibility but without always having your hand up on your head. The water tasted cool, a little metallic, but cool. It felt malleable on your fingers. Skin swelling because of all the water it was absorbing.

Very few cars were on the road, and the ones that were unfortunate enough to be present were scurrying along, trying to get to their pleasant garages. The skies were pouring forth all that might of the heavens. Cool, satisfying. Tasty.

On a terrace in an area with nice houses and nice cars, two boys walked out. They looked to be about ten. They sat on the terrace, squealing in delight as the cold layer of water reached their buttocks. Cold. Wet. They sat on the terrace, used their arms to move them around. It looked strange but they pretended they were ships. A storm brewed overhead, the seas were shaky. They were fast ships, they had gotten off to a slow start, but as they learned to paddle themselves with their arms, they got faster and faster. They were speedy ships. The water fell down fast and hard, calypso made the seas shaky. One wrong move, and you would be in Davy Jones’ locker. Aye aye cap’n. 

The rain fell hard, the trees shook off the water, and as they did, the dust and dirt that had collected on them over the last few dry months was also falling. There was a gleaming green undertone to them that evoked joy. Peaceful. Calm. 

The boys played ships on the terrace instead of video games inside their house.

The rain fell loud, and it clanged against steel pipes, crawled loudly down brick buildings, smashed against windows that shook a little, threatening to get in.

The boys played ships on the terrace, making memories that would actually last a lifetime.

The rain fell heavy, drowning the streets even in this area. Drainage was poor across the city, some places worse than others. This was one of the more affluent places, and drainage was better here. Still not necessarily good. The streets had filled up with at least an inch of water.

The boys played ships on the terrace, beautiful smiles on their faces, laughter in their hearts, joy sparkling in their eyes.

The rain fell loud and heavy. For some, this was not a great season. For those two boys, this was the best one of the five.