Relationship between rains and me has been long since my childhood. I still remember my mother getting irritated when I returned home from school, then college, and then work all drenched from head to shoes.
Even now I enter the office partially or entirely wet. Once I have proclaimed in my office that getting wet is my very old romance with rains.
In West Bengal, when going to school, I used to find the way leading to my school flooded with water which could never be said to be clean and worth enjoying while walking through it. Besides, in Calcutta (now Kolkata), if it is raining, it is believed one should not wait and see, but rush to one’s destination. And if you wait, you would find water coming up in streets. I had seen how the swimming pool at College Square got flooded and water made its easy access to the surrounding streets.
Although Hyderabad and Secunderabad had scanty rains, streets got flooded. Blame it on the poor drainage system.
Heavy rains then follow suit in Goa.
Intermittently, rain here is the prankster. I would feel the drops falling on my head, but before I could pull out the umbrella in my bag, it would stop showering. It seems rains do not like me holding the umbrella. Subsequently the romance continues
