Monsoon Day

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Monsoon Day

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It rained incessantly the whole of yesterday. Though it was a Sunday, I had to fetch groceries,fish, vegetables and fruit from Dinhata Bazar. In addition , I had promised a close relative at Chinsurah to visit his family. The man at Chinsurah is a Medical doctor and has a private clinic of his own and Sunday is his day off. After returning from Dinhata Bazar, the view from my bedroom box window was certainly not very inviting. Visibility was reduced to about ten metres. It was certainly not a nice day to venture outdoors to a one hour train journey from Howrah Railway Station. My home , I think you all know by now, is a good twenty kilometres from Howrah Station.


"Have you left home ?" , the anxious "doc" enquired. It was past nine in the morning."Just leaving" I replied. My wife and me armed with umbrellas and rubber footwear walked out towards the main street where Yellow Cabs would be available. Generous muddy puddles had formed on the street with dog poo, plastic wrappers & stale soggy chapattis floating in them. Even the pariah dogs were curled up somewhere out of sight. Rainwater had already got into my socks and drops of rain was trickling onto the back of my shirt wetting it.I asked my wife whether it would be a good idea to abandon the visit and send an apology to the doc and his family. My wife replied with a firm NO. In the meantime my left foot was into a puddle and it was making a "pooch pooch " sound as I walked.I felt miserable !


We were now on the main road. A yellow metered cab agreed to ferry us to Howrah but with a premium of Rs.20/-. The windows of the taxi was not waterproof. I asked the driver to please close the left side of the driver's window. "No ! " He replied in a matter of fact manner."It will become stuffy inside". So there I was feeling the wet raindrops soak gradually into my trousers. I took a sadistic pleasure in watching the people on the street with umbrellas cautiously navigating muddy puddles - the oldies having a harrowing time - the younger ones enjoying the hop step & jump.


The Howrah portico where the taxi deposited us was slushy and dangerous. Cautiously we tiptoed up the short flight of stairs and queued for buying tickets. For the umpteenth time I wished that I could buy the tickets on my smartphone. The train was quite crowded though it was a  Sunday. With the windows shuttered and only a few fans working, the compartment was a steamy bath despite the torrential rain. Even in this awful melee , hawkers peddled their wares jostling through the crowd & occasionally having heated exchanges with some passenger. The vociferous hawkers peddled roasted peanuts, hot tea, coffee,guavas, vegetable chops, dried Indian gooseberry (amla), safety pins, mobile covers,plastic wallets, pain relief balms, organic tooth powder, magic pens, normal pens, children's picture books and whatever you can think of.


Fortunately the journey was for an hour only. The Chinsurah railway station was an usual suburban type with the usual flurry of activity. People seem to be running bothways for no apparent reason. An example of "rat race" I though silently. My wife and me went out of the platform and walked towards the cycle rickshaw stand. My trousers & my wife's saree were still damp & soggy. The rain was now only a steady drizzle. The puller demanded Rs.20/- which was double the normal fare. "Ei rokom brishti hochhe .Kuri taka dite hobe. {See how it is raining ! you have to pay Rs.20/-} " We bought some local sweets on the way and in a few minutes time we were engaged in happy conversation having changed into the doc's dry pyjamas and vest.


Lunch was excellent consisting of steaming white rice with a generous dollop of ghee, fried wax gourd, deep fried hilsa eggs, dal, hilsa fish curry with ground mustard paste, mango chutney, sweet curd and rasagolla. After lunch we sat in the doc's bedroom sitting cross-legged on the large bed sipping Sprite and chirping to our heart's content. It was our first visit to the new apartment to which they had recently moved in. The four o'clock chime struck and we had friend chicken and sweet tea.  A rickshaw came to our doorstep & we were off on our return journey.


When we started the rain had almost abated but in a few seconds a torrential downpour began. The rickshaw had no proper covers so both of us got drenched like wet crows. Again soaked to the skin we unloaded at the station, bough tickets and boarded the train to Howrah. This time the train was almost empty. We stretched our legs and soon dozed off only to awake at our destination. No hawkers bothered us during our sleep. From Howrah we fortunately got a taxi for home & by eight I was in a warm shower. As I lay in bed I told myself " It was fun !! "













 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

To Bern,

             Austromate,wherever you are Smile Missing you Frown

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