Skip to main content

Rainy Sunday

I moved to Bangalore a month and a half ago, but this is the first weekend I spent by myself in my home. It wasn’t easy making a house a home. Its not just things which help, but something extra, which I am still looking for. A vision I always had in my head was to be able to sit in my room, look out the window when it rains and have a hot piping cup of coffee. Bangalore is blessed with the best weather ever, among all the metros I have been to. It was just one of those days when the earth’s powers combined and gave me a perfectly rainy day, alone in my house on a Sunday, with nothing that pressing to do.

As soon as the clouds which had been hanging around parted to give the first hint of the sweet rainy smell, I ran to whip up a frothy piping cup of coffee. By the time it was raining, I had a hot piping coffee in my hand, perfectly positioned seat and perfectly beautiful jazz playing in the background. Something still didn’t feel right, something was missing, or I should say someone. That vision always had two people in it, at least since it changed a little more than a year ago. One was missing, and what took its place were memories of the rains I had shared with this someone.


It still felt good, hot coffee and rain, but it felt different. The coffee had a little less flavor, a little more nostalgia. We get what we wish for, well, more or less, a bit chipped here or a little nicked there, we just have to make do with it. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Shitty Story

This piece of writing is shit, get out while you can. Honestly. Lot of poo-talk coming up. Ok I warned you. I began writing this article when I joined the organisation I work for today. The biggest boss asked the new employees to write our "Sanitation Story". I am not sure if I was supposed to take a look at my life with a sanitation lens or sanitise my lens on life. I half wrote that piece and left it alone, like almost everything I do. Honestly if my life was a short story, it would be left incomplete, trailing, gathering dust and moths for years. After spending more than three years working here, I started going through these half baked lines of verbal diarrhoea and thought there is something here I should explore, and finish, for a change. So here is a small part of it, just the beginning because the middle is not written yet, I am still living it. Sanitation as a word was introduced long after I was able to think coherently and I don't remember when I just knew it.
Post a Comment
Read more

Life goes on…

 People give a variety of reactions when we mention the scourge of the earth-the oppressed and the downtrodden. Some cringe, some show pity, some are disgusted and a few try to free them from their despair. Respect is something they don’t get, respect for surviving for so long without aid or interference. They haven’t gone to school like us, life is their classroom. They have learnt to cope with the situations and improvise with new ones on the run. One mistake is all it takes to perish the entire community so there isn't room for failure. Just for this, the ability to go on, they deserve respect. Sustainability is after all survival with security and self respect. How can we aim for sustainable development if these two factors evade them? To truly make them our equal, it is not enough to just reallocate resources from the rich to the poor. The challenge is to build an institution which can sustain on its own the progress which has resulted from interventions of NGOs or help gr
Post a Comment
Read more