Shwetha H S

The Meh Visitor

It was that time of the day when I walked back home. Family, mom-made food, books and bed awaited me. I got down about a kilometre away from my home because the bus in which I was took a deviation. I didn’t want to wait for a connecting bus and instead decided to walk home. The lanes were desolated and this was unusual. Though I didn’t stop the music I was listening to and of course didn’t remove my earphones even for a second, I was alert and was looking around trying to sense creepy people. Few more minutes and I would have reached home, but there was a tap on my right shoulder and I turned around to find nobody. Again there was a tap on my left shoulder and I found none when I turned around. It’s only when there was a tap on my head and I looked up, I realised that I was in a trouble. It dawned upon me as the rain rushed down that I had forgotten to carry my umbrella. But then, I like rain. Oh wait, I like only to watch the rain, but not play in it. Maybe just stretch my arms out and collect a few drops of water in the pit of my palms. And maybe just wilfully play in rain and get drenched in rain without looking raunchy… Oh no! I will fall sick. To play or not to play in rain, that is the question. And the footwear also will get dirty. Downpour had started and I had to make haste. Well, a plate of golgappa would do no harm, I thought. Since I was already near my home by the time my train of thoughts stopped and I was in no mood to make haste, I preferred having golgappa. Then I got back to thinking, well overthinking, about how rain is both welcomed and unwelcome depending on each person’s situation, but rain doesn’t care and just showers down whenever and wherever it feels like. Rain is a badass; is indifferent to our needs of the moment. Someone might want to go out for a jog or someone is rushing to meet his girlfriend or someone wants to enjoy a dry weather. No, you do your thing, if you can and rain does its thing. No point in singing “Rain! Rain! Go away!” Rain will look upon you with a meh expression. I can totally imagine rain saying “tum tuch manav” and swirl and sway and sweep down on humanity to wash away…wait, I don’t want to get washed away. I won’t even go to the Ganges to wash my sins. They are precious. So, rain… though you pray to it, get harmless animals married in human ways and sing ruthless songs, rain will descend upon Earth only when it wants to. It had not stopped raining even after me finishing a plate of golgappa. See, rain didn’t care even for my golgappa. Why would it even care about whether I reach home or not? I walked back home anyway.

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