This is a serial. Everyday a new part will be published. This is the first part.
Rain used to be a poem. When, it simply went away whenever Li’l Johnny wanted to play. But as we grew up, we had other things to do, which did not necessarily qualify as playing. Ike studying for instance. When we studied, Rain used to be our saviour. We all have hoped for the gates of heavens to open up and let the mighty rain precipitate and flood our schools on the day of any difficult exam we had. But the rain usually never came. It did come however, when we planned for a day out. We might have our plans for picnic ready and the rain would come away and leave us dripping to the extent that even bathing would seem to be the driest activity around. We would have all our fruits and vegetables automatically cooked into an abominable soup, which when dumped in the dumpyard might make the dump yard throw up, which by the away let me add a side note, is not the most pleasant of the experiences that one might enjoy in his or her life. Rain, also is weird in terms of its intensity. Sometimes, it floods an ocean other times, it struggles to fill a puddle. I remember, one of my friends had such an experience once. She was reading the newspaper, which is a good habit and was also deeply believing the weather that was forecasted, which is not an activity as good. She read that the day would be a majorly cloudy one and one might expect a few drops of rain. “A few drops ain’t worth a raincoat”, she said. She packed her books which she needed for her trip to some place, I don’t quite recollect. She also packed in the laptop of hers but raincoat, she did not. And Oh, what a mistake had it been! The rain which was believed to descend drop by drop, descended lake by lake and immersed every materialistic good in the vicinity. Raincoat less her, was so drenched that had we teleported her to the Kalahari, she would have become an instant celebrity as the harbinger of fortune, the desert people’s term for water! Her books were now more dilapidated than egyptian papyrus. Her laptop had commited suicide and her waterproof phone had gone haywire and started to call up all the teachers in her contacts and send them profane texts. She was in deep trouble. This anecdote helps us appreciate the importance of disobeying weather forecasts selectively. Selectively, because of his story. His story begins on a relatively sunny day.
To be continued. Next part will be available here.
