prabāt

3PM. A long way to go before the day’s work gets over. But that’s not what it looked like. The sun nowhere in sight. Dark skies looming large. There is usually a calm even amid the hustles of rampant everyday routines. But the calm seems to have vanished. Hustles were just that – a hustle. The legs walking faster than they usually did. Eyes rolling around the surroundings looking for likely sprinkles with an occasional raise of the neck to check the gloom in the skies. Gloom was only getting gloomier.

There were a few calmer ones. Wrapping themselves under thick jackets, or carrying a sheltering folded umbrella in their hands. They were hustling too. And those faces that couldn’t help but only stay and wonder on those fortunate counterparts who managed to carry their shelters. They were hustling too. And those faces that bore an incessant smile watching and waiting for all the fun to unfold. They were hustling too.

A chill wind cut across the faces. There was the smile for want of freshness, but also the speculation of eventualities. Of canceling appointments, missing dinner outing with the loved one, driving on sloppy roads, traffic jams and late reaching buses, getting a strip of crocin and vicks on the way, washing mud sling clothes the next day. As thoughts raced, the legs hustled. And hustled fast.

And then it poured. Pandemonium broke amid a mix of laughter and curses. Helpless faces waited for the downpour to subside, while a few who could shelter themselves walked their way, and a few watched as the path they are waiting to walk was getting sloppier by the second. And it continued pouring as though there would never be a stop.

Patient faces and persevering legs finally had the break, as the downpour seemed to subside into drizzles and a gradual momentum seemed to resume. Drenched clothes, muddy slippers, wiping faces, cautious steps on the walk, a stare at the sky to ensure it didn’t start all over again, repents of the missed meeting, cancelled shopping, ensuing traffic jams. A couple of hours of downpour, and the moods and outlooks had already changed with the changing atmosphere.

I’m back at work. There is work to be done. And work doesn’t know I’m drenched.