Author: Vasudha Pansare
The monsoon season brings back so many romantic memories of youthful passion. Memories of your first love when you walked in the rain to meet the man of your dreams.
Such beautiful seasons of rain I have experienced. The song of the cuckoo would start a tumultuous wave of emotions in my heart.
I suppose all of us have gone through this as young women with stars in our eyes.
I remember one particular incident. As a young wife, I was waiting for my husband to return from office. It was raining heavily and I was a bit worried because he would be riding a motor cycle and didn’t have a raincoat or a helmet. In those days helmets were not compulsory. I waited and waited but in vain; but there was no sign of him.
A hundred tragic scenes of accidents went through my mind.
Finally he came back after the rain had stopped at around 9pm. We didn’t have mobiles or even a landline in the 1980s. So he couldn’t inform me and I couldn’t call him. He sheepishly told me that he was dragged by his friends for a Bridge tournament and he couldn’t refuse. I was very angry with him, but was thankful that he had returned safely.
Another incident I remember is when we had flash floods in the town where we lived. Our children were small and suddenly after a week of heavy rain, the streets and lanes were like flowing rivers and we saw furniture floating away in the water.
Fortunately our house didn’t have any water logging and became a centre for all our friends to come and have lunch. Such a lot of food was cooked, all the ladies helped in cooking and all the men in serving. We were young, all of us had very young children and that rainy day was like a wonderful picnic for all of us.
A very beautiful blog