running in the rain

Looking at the ticker makes me hate time more then ever, find myself crouching in a stance lost in middle of an already crouching crowd. I sometimes hate rain more than time, it has been an audience to all eventful time of my life, mostly bad times. It rained on 21^st June, 1987, when the whole nation was under a shining sun it rained in Cheerapunjee all day, all night, all men were wet, all women were wet, all kids to school were wet, all animals under the trees were wet, all roof tops were wet, all hill tops were wet, I was also wet though not in rain on my zero’th birthday.

Now look at this puddle of stagnant water left by the dirty rain that just passed by; right, right in middle of my way. Shall I plunge and get myself a dirty wet foot or shall I tip-toe my way across the soft mud over its left edge thus rubbing shoulder with that wet brick wall? Or shall I just take a big leap to land on the other side!

“The other side” …a strange feeling just crept into my mind; just like my diddering dark shadow over water made by the last street light that I left few steps behind. A shadow as dark as the other side of this pool of mine, Ah! Murky life of mine. Schooling was never interesting, College was just another mess, after-College made me bitchy and my life miserable. Friends are empty beer bottles, drink, get drunk and throw away when done. Family is another name for a cashless ATM station, I hate them all; yet I miss them so much. Mr. Pratick Panicker was helpful, he gave me this job. But he took so much from me every night for so many days.

Do I have to regret? I don’t know, maybe I don’t care either. I had so many complain (I still have some) when at school, while at college, when I was lost and now while I work, this Café Coffee Day has been good to me. I have changed over time. It feels so good serving coffee to smiling young couples; boys starring at the menus while girls do blabbering; boys making queer faces and girls do the naughty moves; their giggles make me pass my sun happily over sunset. My tomorrow? Still unpredictable like my nights. Nights for me are gloomy, otherwise there’ so much so happening under Bangalore street lights. The ticker gave a new twist to my nights recently; only last Tuesday I joined a Christian missionary organization “A Mothers for a Child”. Now every night I go to this DonBosco Children Home and spend time with the children, read them stories, sing them songs, make them sleep, I am a part time Mom. What story shall I read tonight?

With a noisy doomp! I landed on the other side. I shall not read tonight I will narrate a story, the story of Awi. There are many a happy happenings in my life; I will share with my kids tonight.