Dreams are renewable. No matter what our age or condition, there are still untapped possibilities within us and new beauty waiting to be born.

-Dale Turner-

Saturday, 18 July, 2009

Monsoon memory

It was vacation time, when six school friends ganged up one evening. Hopping homes on new bikes, sharing college notes on a terrace... when it rained. poured.

With no one to check us, we played with vengeance in the rain. for all the times we were bundled up for a drizzle, for all the times we were shouted at for having got wet in the rain, for all the times we did not dare to jump into a puddle.

dancing, laughing, with music from somewhere... teasing, and then one friend broke down.

I had unwittingly reminded her of her boyfriend. they had just broken up, I did not know. but the rain cheered her up soon and we played again, though a little subdued.

as we rode back home that night, speeding on the airforce lane, much later than we were allowed, cold and carefree, wet and without a care about odd glances... it struck me at a crossing:

we were grown-up, past caring, independent and yet it was not all that I had imagined.

Adulthood brought with it, its own share of worries and pains.


My nephew is a slothbear