A few days back, it rained cats and dogs in Dilli. While on our way back, my friend and I got stuck in what is supposed to be one of the busiest street markets that there is in the city, namely, Janpath. 

On regular days, outings, it would mean fun. But the days when you’re trying to just get back home to your bed after an exhausting day at work, I don’t know how many people would like that. Not us, no. And then things happened. We saw people trying to shop, still, and giving their best arguments that there could possibly be, to reduce the prices; we saw a guy bathing, sitting in the middle of that lane, smiling, getting teased by his peers; we learnt how, if things are well coordinated, you can drain water from tour make shift roof (there’s a rhythm to the whole process; no sarcasm); we saw people slipping down and then either bursting into laughter or chasing and abusing the one who caused their embarrassed moment; we saw dogs walk around like they had no care in the world, probably making fun of humans too, for being scared of water; we saw ourselves struggling through water, that reached our knees and no amounts of folding of our jeans could avoid them from getting drenched. We saw one of us coming home to a postcard sent by a friend facing equal hardships because of the monsoon there and Ondaatje.

We experienced so much and yet nothing surreal in one moment. And one moment it was, to change our perception of the weather.


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