The First Rains

The little kid is sitting on the bed by the small grilled window, intently watching Scooby-Doo and his band of friends chasing monsters, while the sun casts the iron-grill pattern on the bed. The newly repaired fan rotating at its best to keep the sole occupant at ease. The kid completely unaware of the world outside.

Slowly, the pattern on the grill starts fading until it is completely lost in the shadow of a dark cloud hovering high in the sky. The pace of people on the lane outside the house begins to rise, as the first few drops make its way down to the ground. In a matter of minutes the light drops turn into a gentle shower as the commotion of people running for cover has increased. The asbestos roof sheets of the houses lining the lane keep its occupants dry but hardly help the pedestrians in this matter. As the aroma of the soil and stink of dog poop from the nearby playground fills the air, the electricity of the houses goes missing. The kid is now left staring at a black box as the fan slowly comes to a still. Now the commotion of the outside world has dawn on him. He moves to the window to inspect the scene outside.

The gentle showers has turned into a heavy pouring with the wind sprinkling stray drops on his little round face. He is intently waiting for his mother to return from the market as he enjoys the cool of wind and rain through the window.

The door opposite to his house opens and out steps his little friend jumping and dancing in the first rains. Running from door to door, calling out everyone to join. The same door opens again and out comes the friend's mother who is now holding her son by the wrist and dragging him in while yelling out 101 reasons of why-not-to-get-wet. The comic of the scene puts a smile on his face.

A familiar umbrella passes in front of the window and the door of his house is stirring open as mom enters partially soaked. She keeps the dripping umbrella by the door, goes into the kitchen with the market bag, while he is watching the bag as a familiar smell seeps out of it. In a moment, mom is out with a plate of crisp fried kanda bhajiya (pyaz/onion pakora) and they are both sitting by the window, enjoying the rains with some crispy hot bhajiyas.