Monsoons offered consistent and meaningful backdrops in the life a of 90’s kid. Rain falling on the thatched and tiled rooftops always had an organic quality about it.
Our streets gleam and glimmer in the rainwater. Eccentric, orange colored puddles emerge all over the roads, from which slimy brown frogs jump and creep the hell outta the passers-by.
The chattuvams, kuttuvams and kuthuponies are lined up under the grooves of the roofs inorder to collect the rainwater. Amidst the rythmic flow of slushing and dripping, one can also hear the ears/handles of the bronze vessels dangling loosely against them when the stormy winds blow.
We sit near the verandahs and watch the water fall, run and rush towards the drainage. Sometimes we make paper boats and when not in the mood, we simply chit-chat or balance the falling rain drop on our index fingers.
The big, black umbrellas remain in a period of unrest almost the whole time of the year. It’s a huge pain to carry this boring accessory to school everyday. But once it is left outside the classroom, we hardly remember its existence until evening.
Our classrooms do not have air-conditioners hence permit excellent flow of air and with the short, semi-open walls, we even have free access to admire the wet crows, sparrows and squirrels quivering on the damp branches of the trees.
The luxury of endless monsoon comes with a price. Our white uniforms permanently lose its fresh shade on the very first day of school, the canvas shoes lose its charm thanks to the daily encounter with muddy puddles, the electric bells placed near the metal gate trigger a mild shock when touched, the compound walls and concrete floors outside the houses are forever coated with a slippery layer of green algae, which is one of the main reasons why every 90’s kid has a permanent wound mark badged on atleast one of their knees 🙂
—-to be continued—-