Rain

3 years ago

bones123

@bones123

“Mr. Kapoor, aap kya kar rahe hain? Tarun electricity board ko control NAHI karta. There is a storm raging outside and they have shut off power to ensure there are no fires or casualties. It’s fairly standard practice. Tarun ne generators on kar diye hai, but they are only for the living area, not the entire house. Now will you please let the man go, and decide where you want to sit? I’m off to our room. Mujhe andhere se darr nahi lagta”

He stared in disbelief as his wife left him downstairs and went up to their room. He quietly followed her and saw her sitting on their massive terrace, just staring at the inky dark skies. Bombay during the monsoon was a beauty (acc to him), but Bombay in an October storm, shrouded in pitch black darkness interspersed by bright lightning was (he had to admit it)…magical. 

He forgot why he was fussing about no power a few moments ago, if this is what they were going to experience. 

“Candles jala doon?” He asked her. 

She made a tch sound in response which he knew was a negative. For some reason, his rain hating wife, was content sitting in this dark moody night, looking out to the sea. 

He sat opposite her and taking a cue from her, resigned himself to looking at nothing really. The lightning in between outlining the massive Sea Link structure before plunging everything back into darkness. 

Probably an hour passed in silence, with no words uttered by either of them…but it was the first hour in weeks where Ram had found the opportunity to unwind completely. He felt all his stress, his worries leave his mind and body and the only thing he focussed on was the sound of nature around him. Their silence compensating for the loudness of the storm. 

He stole a glance to his left, she was sitting with her legs on the couch, her arms around the knees, her hair undone and he saw the same sense of peace he felt, on her face as well. Had he ever seen her looking this serene? 

“Aap ne ek din poocha tha ki mera favourite gaana kaunsa hai?” She stated out of no where. 

“yaad hai mujhe, ae zindagi gale laga le. Wadkar sahib, genius extraordinaire”

“Woh actually, woh gaana mujhe pasand hai, kyunki maa ko pasand hai..par mera favourite nahi…”

“Arre wah, so you admit that you do like music. Main aurangzeb se bhi pooch loon, kahin iss mausam main uska bhi mann na badal gaya ho?”

“Ram…if you are not serious about this, I won’t tell you” she whined exasperatedly

“Acha baba sorry, batao…tumhara favourite kaunsa hai?” 

“Banwaraa Mann dekhne chala ek Sapna…” 

“Yeh kaunsa gaana hai, maine kabhi nahi suna hai”

“It’s from Hazaaron Khwaishein aise. All my life I’ve never felt that I could have dreams, hopes desires….this song at times used to be my escape into fantasy, what I indulged in….before coming back to reality. But lately I’ve felt that maybe, just maybe I could have the liberty….to have some dreams too”

Ram was stunned by what she had said but also left unsaid. She had gone back to her previous pose of staring into nothingness and he knew she wouldn’t divulge more…not today.

He pulled up Spotify to look for the song she was talking about. As the deep, rich baritone of Swanand Kirkire filled the space around them…he soaked in the lyrics, willing himself to also dream just a little bit