"Oh crap...!” I exclaimed. Having not been able to complete the assignment Gaurav Sir set for me, I was disgusted with myself. Over the past two hours I hadn't solved a single programming. Those were the days; After completing senior school and waiting for the admissions in colleges to begin. I took up some programming classes in 'downtown' Chandigarh. Sigh. What days were they.
Whatever had gone wrong...???
The entire day had been monotonously dull, and to top it up, this profoundly boring and non-happening class! I wanted it all to end fast. I wanted to go home, avoid any awkward situations and curl up having a warm cup of coffee watching TV on this monsoony September evening.
At 6pm, I was allowed me to leave, or should I put it as, having had enjoyed juicing me, Gaurav dumped the pulpy part of me out of the class. (Just for the personification)
As I reached the landing at the 1st floor, I heard a roar of thunder. And as I reached the parking lot, it was, well, spitting rain drops.
Oh please! Not the rain at least. I hate the rain. Period. No discussions on this. I, all the same, reared Basanti up and took off for home, about 10 kms away.
The rain was increasing all the time and as I approached a red light coming to a halt, a cute hottie parked her scooter beside me, waiting for the lights to go green. Oh! These Chandigarh girls have something about them that none other can match. The spitting rain was making the moment more erotic. Hell, sex drive after such a monotonous day. Overdose of testosterone, maybe.
All this while the rain increased from spitting, to puking (metaphorically of course!) and in no time I was thoroughly puked upon.
As I approached another red light at 'Manhattan', Chandigarh I slowed down Basanti, reduced the throttle and to my disgust, and utter frustration, I stalled her. In a lay man's words, water had splashed into the little 2S engine and it wont 'on', until it dries up. Wow! What a fitting way to add on my 'monotonously' dull day!!!
There come some times whena you just wished to be the only person alive on the face of the earth and shout your lungs hoarse cursing. "Oh #$&*#$*%@...!” I exclaimed again.
All soaked, I dragged the 60-odd-kg scooter plus myself to a place I could leave it to dry off. And all of a sudden just as unknowingly as I began hating the day, I actually started finding something good about it. For no explainable reason, I was enjoying the rain. You know, like in those situations when you have no choice, and actually end up enjoying it.
Having being forced to waddle in the rain, I enjoyed the wet drops gorging down, and soaking me head to toe... this was like a shower...!!!
And I was enjoying it...!!!
I parked Basanti in a nearby 'scooter market', with the hope that it would be safe there till that evening, and started my journey home on foot, about 6 kms from there.
The side berms of the road was already flooded. The much talked about drainage system was visibly having a tough time coping with this downpour. (Sigh, something for the newspaers front page tomorrow). The pavements were muddy, and the vehicles were splashing water all over like a hose pipe gone out of control. I wadded my way, feeling the firm road under my feet, and the gushing flow around the ankles. There was a place where an oil spill from a car joined the flow from the next crossing. The long rainbow like flow was fascinating. Had I not known it was car grease, I would have definitely splashed it all around.
Chandigarh being a 'parky' city, is lined with small parks along the road. And at one such place, an elderly pair of ladies doing their evening walk, in the rain, that really made for a picture perfect sight. There were also a group of school kids running, most likely back to their homes, as their mom's seemed to be summoning them.
The road was under decent traffic, the office going people were heading home fast. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry. The swanky cars, with AC's turned on swished by, the scooterists (so far lucky ones) drove with speedy caution as the cycle bourn laborers were making a mess at the crossings.
Guys on their flashy sports bikes speeding down the street (possibly showoff-ing).
Girls on their chic scooties, uhmm, what ever they would have been doing.
Everyone was in a state of urgency and no one seemed to be enjoying the heavens ablaze, I mean anti-ablaze; Or maybe they were, but I doubt as much as I was...!!!
Up along the road was a 'butta wali', roasted maize seller...!!! My mouth watered, possibly as much as the skies were. I dished out a five rupee and bartered it for half a butta, smeared with sumptuous amounts of lemon and salt.... viola..!
It was ecstasy...!! The rain, the romanticism, the splashing cars, the oily-ly beautiful flow, the skies, the parks, the oldies, the kiddies, the distant memories of how dull the day had been the everything... and now the butta...!!!
Wow...!!! This sure would classify as one of the best evenings ever...!!!
Having walked wadded and wallowed (not actually, just to get the alliteration) the entire width of two sectors, the rain was finally giving way.
Well all good things have to come to an end... and so did this evening's romanticism.
I hitched a lift from a biker going towards my place. (A definite advantage of being a Punjabi)
An hour and half after I first cursed myself in the class, I reached home, soaked inside out, head to toe.
And, just as I crossed the portals, it happened...!!!
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I sneezed my lungs out . . . . ! ! ! ! . . . . . Thrice...!!!
I had caught up with a cold.
"Oh crap...!” I exclaimed again for the third time.
for all the romanticism of the past hour and half, I still hate the rain.......!!!!
