Storm in an Indian market
A scene of nostalgia as people enjoy the first shower of monsoon rains, bringing relief from the summer heat.
Prabhale always knew when it would rain.
The storm before the shower was his favorite time to be on the shop. He didn’t scramble to pull down the shutters and fold in his seat. He sat still under the cover of his stretched room to watch the life unfold before him.
“Phir jeet gaya tu!” His friend lost the bet again. The heavy man shut down his shop before starting his scooter with a kick, and rushing home to the promise of deep fried pakodas with hot chai from his wife.
Prabhale bid him goodbye with a laugh, as he weaved his vehicle through the panicking people.
The fruit seller in front of the paan shop had brought his family from the village. The mother sat down on the footpath, a little above the road while the man unfolded the tarpaulin he used to protect his wares. He dragged it over to cover the head of his wife and their child sleeping peacefully in her lap.
Their other son was running around, playing with the school kids who had taken some polythene bags from the seller. Their bags sat heavy on their backs as they covered their faces with the plastic and pretended to be zombies to the delight of younger kid. Their laughs rang louder than the thunder as they sang, teased and danced, plunging a rickshaw puller in his childhood memories.
Prabhale laughed at their jugaad to save the face from dirt and pebbles slapping anything in way to nowhere.
Their chaos did not interrupt the young man in pressed shirt and pant, with an office id dangling from his neck. He stood with hunched shoulders. Yet he faced upwards to feel the wind blowing without a care. To welcome the first shower of rains.
He didn’t hear the screech of auto, stopping a few inches from him as it lost balance. The driver got out with a grin, clutching his phone tightly, on a video call with his wife.
Prabhale could hear her asking in wonder if the big cities had storms like their village. The auto driver exclaimed it rained even more heavily here, to call the children over so that they could see too.
His lady customers wrapped their faces up with their dupatta, and pulled down their sunglasses from their heads till they looked like the colorful versions of bank robbers in the Bollywood movies.
Husband of a young woman a bit far had different use in mind for her dupatta. He stood under the flowing cloth imitating Shah Ruk Khan from his earlier movies, making his lover laugh in delight as she took it away gently while shaking her head.
They held each other’s hands and ran to find a roof as the clouds let down their weight.
Prabhale called them over to stand in the building beside his shop, handing the man two sweet paans. The man leaned over to take the treat with one hand as he stretched a hundred rupee note with the other.
The old man smiled, denying the money with a wave of his hand, accepting only a thanks in return from the young couple.
When it became clear, the torrent wouldn’t stop anytime soon, the two ran off using one of their hands as umbrella to no use.
The road soon emptied as the Auto wallah was called by his ladies to take them away as the school kids remembered they had mothers waiting for them at home. The hawkers took refuge under their own wares as the storm went to its height, lost its steam and left the city sighing with relief.
Prabhale sat above the shallow river of water as the sun peeked from behind the clouds once again.
He heard the sound of his friend’s scooter before he saw the grinning man, waving with one hand. A polythene bag with a parcel of his wife’s world-famous onion bhajiya was dangling from the other handle as he parked in front of the small shop.
The friends exchanged the fried treat and sweet paan. They enjoyed the snacks with a side of gossip they saw on road and TV.
“It would rain tomorrow, too!” Prabhale dusted off his hands, smacking his lips to chase the lingering taste of the last delicious piece as his friend roared in laughter over his cheeky prediction.
Tell me about your favorite thing to do while it rains.
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Lovely...and it's raining right now, even as I write this. (Not a monsoon, but that's ok by me!)