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| Our backyard |
It is raining steadily for almost a week now. Heavy showers sometimes alternate with barely-there drizzles. The rain never stops completely though.
Each time the downpour eases a little, water drips from the mango trees in our backyard and forms muddy puddles underneath. A squirrel family comes out of the tree hollows to look for food. Their excited chirps fill the air. A tiny green frog somehow finds its way into our balcony. It remains absolutely still for a few minutes, uncertain of its new surroundings. A group of small black ants form a trail through the living room, trying to escape their flooded homes. Gerald Durrell would have been happy living in these surroundings, I think with a smile.
The iron grills of our balcony glisten with strings of pearl-like raindrops. The smell of freshly ground garam masala from a neighbour's kitchen wafts in through the window. It brings back memories of Sunday lunches cooked by my grandmother. K has braved the rain to go out and feed a friend's cat. I flip through TV channels idly while waiting for him to come home.
Dark monsoon clouds have forced the afternoon to make way for an early evening. I don't feel like switching on the lights yet, preferring to enjoy the untimely darkness. A tree branch suddenly crashes outside with a thundering sound.
Tomorrow morning will bring flooded streets and longer traffic snarls. But, as they say, tomorrow is another day.
