rains make me (and a whole lot of other people) very happy. trees, wherever they are, plants, roads (especially late night in the orangish street light) look sqeaky clean and beautiful. add to that the rim jhim (sounds so much better than pitter patter!) on the sea.
after the floods last year, i was afraid i'll never love the rains. things havent improved a great deal here. it's pretty much the same. different departments have tried to do different things. they tried to clean up Mithi River, they tried to demolish the slums, they tried to ban plastic crap, they tried to evict people in several dilapidated buildings. so on and so on. i dont know if they have a done a good job.
it may not rain like july 26th - 944 mm in a day - once in a 100 years sort of rain. but still houses will be flooded, there will be diseases, the trains will stop, the city will come to a stand still - AS USUAL. I just hope that we do not forget that this happens every every monsoon.
i hope all the different departments that are working extra hard (they are, they are not, they are, they are not ...) burdened by the fear of another flood and all that followed, continue to work. at the same time, i hope the city does not panic everytime it pours. simply because people here have braved the monsoon all the time - under the railway bridges, in the slums, in low lying colonies, in the tracks with stranded trains, schools, colleges, everywhere.
i pray that such floods dont happen and city's "upgraded" disaster management department is not put to test. i pray that people do not lose their lives, homes, children, livelihood, courage.
i could go on about the tragedies, failures, tears... or...
it still looks terrfic on marine drive when rainfilled clouds try to gulp the slowly lighting up street lights. it still feels awesome to get soaked while standing on the footboard of the train on the way home. it still is funny when you don't want to clsoe the window in the train as it starts pouring, and other tch-tching women insist and (thank god for small mercies!) that the window gets jammed and refuses to shut. it still feels happy cosy to curl up in bed with rains and favourite book for company. it still feels nice to have a traditional aunt who celebrates all the festivals (there are loads of them) in shravan all the way upto ganesh chaturthi and invites you for every delicious meal...
it's time for chai, pakodas, coffees, butta, confusion, settings for anecdotes, memories, childhood friends, football, sneezy temporary colds, jasmine, alubukhar, conked out cell phones (yippee!), endless conversations with taxi, autodrivers, commuters, people, colourful umbrellas, new school books (can u ever forget the smell of a new notebook mixed with new new raindrops?), dirty clothes, bai's complaints about muck marks on your salwars, it's time for rains... it's time for bambai ki baarish...
Barasaat
Munir Niazi
Munir Niazi
aah! ye baaraanii raat
mii.nh, havaa, tuufaan, raqs-e-saayeqaat
shash-jahat par tiirgii uma.Dii huii
ek sannaaTe me.n bazm-e-hadasaat
aur merii khi.Dakii ke niiche
kaa.Npate pe.Do.n ke paat
chaar suu aavaaraa hai.n
bhuule bisare vaaqayaat
jhakka.Do.n ke shor me.n
jaane kitanii duur se
sun rahaa huu.N terii baat
[saayeqaat=bolts of lightning]
[shash-jahat=six directions]
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