Of The Rainiest Days in Calcutta

I earned a puntured tyre on a waterlogged EM Bypass, got sprayed in muddy water by passing cars enroute to work, submitted to my mother's demands of carrying an umbrella, sat in office with my socks drying on my chair, stood at the chai-stall singing Simon & Garfunkel with friends getting more drenched by the minute, sat in office dreaming of whiskey and khichuri, stood under sheds with my back to the road and smoked using my body and existing physical structures to prevent the cigarette from getting drenched like myself, and slept well to the sound of the rain.

Today its raining no more. All is back to 'normal'.

I like the rain. When she comes, she roars; and my city streets, they shine rustic ravaged by her touch.