It’s June and the city has played enough like a bad boy in mud and dirt all through the summer. Mother Nature is annoyed and instructs her son to go take a bath immediately. She turns on the shower and the city bathes in glory like a piece of dirty linen soaked completely in water and taken out. And look how he’s bathing; he’s dancing, singing, jumping in joy like a 2 yr old who is given a good scrub by his mother who also happens to play along with him in the bath tub.
Zooming in to one corner of the city, where everyone is looking up at the photoshoped clouds that have been touched up with a color of grey. They all know what’s coming and like curious kids running around setting up their stockings for Santa Claus to arrive, they are all ready to welcome the rain with arms wide open.
The wind chimes clanking to the tunes of wind, the sound of sea waves hitting the shores and the cupid-like weather has made alcohol official. So here comes Mr.Old Monk ; a philosopher and one of the best conversationalists ever who has this uncanny ability to make everyone talk. There’s one more guest for the evening to enhance the celebrations for homecoming of rains-Mr. Neel Dhurendar, the Hookah. He’s a silent listener, someone who gives slight kicks between intense conversations as if to say, “Hey, I need attention too.” But he’s a sober, non-interfering, nonchalant guy who likes to be a part of celebrations.
After 3 rounds of talk and party with Mr.Old Monk and Mr.Dhurendar and the rains serving like a perfect background for a still picture, the celebrations get merrier. People start to sing old hindi songs in a Lata-like or a toad like voice and nobody minds. Everybody sings and hums along.
Well, the alien world can keep calling or fretting like disturbed neighbours yelling at the top of their voices. Because for today, they are the other side of the world that is parchy ; where rum and rain don’t exist to bring back nostalgia, peace, love and togetherness.
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