Come Walk in My Shoes

A long short story exploring the differing viewpoints and journeys of  The Silent Generation (born between 1925 – 1945) and Gen Y (born between 1980 – 1995).

“Hello Kanika.”

“Namaste Lataji. So good of you to call.”

“It has been quite some time since we last spoke isn’t it?”

“Yes, I think almost two weeks now. Something or the other is always going on. Sometimes I really don’t think life is worth it.” Kanika’s voice broke.

“What’s the matter?” Lata was concerned. “You sound low? Is your health troubling you?”

“Old age is a curse Lataji.”

“What is it Kanika? Did someone say something? Your daughter-in-law…”

“Malati’s antics I am used to and I don’t expect much from her either. After all she is not of my blood. But when your own…” she broke down.

“Kanika! What happened? I am so sorry my friend. Don’t cry my dear. Keep faith. The Almighty will make everything right.”

“To tell the truth Lataji, I have lost faith in the Almighty. I don’t know why He is punishing me. What have I ever done to deserve this? Why doesn’t He call me? Like He did my husband?” Kanika’s sobs grew louder.

“Control yourself Kanika. Tell me what happened? Don’t keep it bottled up. Talking will help. And perhaps it’s not as bad as you are thinking?”

“What can I say Lataji? When your own family stabs you in the back nothing can take away the pain.”

“You are scaring me Kanika. Did someone hit you? Not…not your son?”

“I wish they had killed me. At least I would have been spared this grief.”

“What grief Kanika?”

“I feel ashamed to say it Lataji. No I cannot say it….”

“Is…is it about money?” Lata asked in hushed tones.

“Yes! Money is missing again from my account. They think I am old, I won’t notice but I am nobody’s fool. I ran the house, handled accounts everything for more than 50 years. I know when money is missing from my bank account. Not just one or two rupees but Rs 5000. ”

“Rs 5000! From your bank account?” Lata was shocked but she tried to soothe matters, “I am sure there must be some explanation, just enquire at the bank. Nobody can just walk into a bank and take out money from your account without your permission.”

“That’s the trouble Lataji. My son handles all bank work. And now I have an ATM card…”

“Oh! ATM? Sunil has the password I suppose?”

“Yes, he does. But it’s not him. I trust him. He has been handling my accounts for so many years now. Even when his Father was alive. Not one paisa unaccounted for.”

“So whom do you suspect?”

“Rishi.” Kanika choked.

“Your grandson?!” Lata was shocked. “Surely not? He is such a good boy.”

“Money can turn the head of anyone Lataji. And this is the new generation – no patience, no scruples, just instant gratification by hook or by crook.”

Lata sighed. “That’s true Kanika. I really wonder where these youngsters are going. They are so materialistic and self-centered. They cannot see anything beyond their own desires and needs.”

“You know I adore Rishi – If only he had asked me. He knows I would never refuse him anything. To steal…” she trailed off and took a shuddering breath. She heaved a big sigh. “I don’t know how to handle this delicate matter. Should I ignore it or should I talk to Sunil? Or confront Rishi?”

“Yes,” said Lata, “it is a very tricky issue. You can’t ignore it. Sunil needs to be told so that he can take corrective action before things go out of hand. Rishi is still young. Perhaps he has a valid reason…”

“What valid reason could he have to steal? He has a good job, and these days they pay so well that the money goes to their head. Ultimately nothing is enough. They just want more – a new phone, a new laptop, branded shoes, bike…”

“I think you should talk it over with Sunil. Your son is a good steady man, he will sort it out with Rishi…”

“I am sure Sunil will not mind but Malati will throw a fit if I dare to point a finger to her beloved son. She will make it impossible for me to stay in this house…”

“But you can’t ignore the matter can you? Was the money withdrawn via the ATM or by check?”

“I am not sure. I think by check.”

“Why don’t you enquire at the bank?”

“Yes but then I might be opening Pandora’s box…”

“Find out from the bank. Then we can take a decision what to do. Let’s meet at the temple on Tuesday.”

“That will be nice.” Kanika cheered up. “It was good talking to you Lataji.”

“Same here Kanika. Now, promise me you will go to the bank?”

“You’re right, I should get to the bottom of the matter. I will go to the bank right away.”

“Good girl!”

Girl! That never failed to make Kanika laugh. Lata joined her.

Revived after the chat with her long time friend and neighbor, Kanika dressed swiftly and collected her bank papers. But instead of the bank, she landed up in the hospital – with a broken leg. In her rush to leave, she was unmindful of her step and the floor was wet.

“Hello Dadi.” Rishi dumped his bag on the chair at the hospital. “How are you?”

Hello. Humph. How would I be with a broken leg lying in a hospital bed at the mercy of all you people? Waiting for somebody to come and spare a few moments for the old witch who doesn’t have the good sense to die?”

“Oh please Dadi give me a break will you? I don’t have time for all this…”

“What do you have time for? Partying? Gaming? Drugs? That you have time for don’t you? But time to sit by the side of your grandmother who is on her way out…”

“Just a sec Dadi,” Rishi turned away as his phone beeped, “Hello? Hi…”

Kanika fumed at the interruption. “Hello. Hi. What is this world coming to? No respect for tradition and culture. Busy with their superficial lives, drowning in materialism no time for the finer things in life.” She raised her eyes heavenwards. “Hey Gopal, why do you insist upon torturing me like this? Why this bias? Why this pain? At least tell me my faults so that I can repent for them? Call me to you. Please. I have had enough of this selfish lonely world. Call me to you my lord Gopal.” A tear slipped down her corner of her eye. With a weary sigh she put a hand over her eyes.

Rishi wandered back inside. He was still on the phone. “No. The client told me… okay, but he specifically told me to…but that’s not my fault!” There was a long pause and Kanika peeped out from under her hand. Rishi’s face was black with rage. She sat up and held her breath. He was going to throw one of his infamous tantrums.

“Rishi…” Kanika held out a hand as if to physically stop him from blowing his top.

“Yes Nitin. Sorry Nitin. Yes I will take care of it.” He said in an even tone.

Rishi disconnected the phone and paced the hospital room, clenching and unclenching his fists, muttering under his breath. He kicked a chair in his path and overturned it. Straightening it he went and stood in front of the AC.

“You’ll catch a chill Rishi.” Kanika cautioned but he ignored her.

Kanika wondered what had happened and who was that on the phone. His boss? But wouldn’t he have called him Sir? Or didn’t they do that any more? But she was impressed with the restraint Rishi had shown while dealing with Nitin. The way he behaved at home, she didn’t think he had it in him to meekly accept his culpability especially when it appeared it wasn’t his fault.

Rishi fumbled with his phone for a while and then dialed. “Hello Mr Verma. Rishi here. I am really sorry about…” he walked out of the hospital room.

“Did he come here to talk on the phone or what?” grumbled Kanika. She couldn’t help feeling concerned – Rishi apologizing! She sat staring at the door until he returned, still on the phone.

“Yes one cheese n chicken pizza and one coke. Dadi do you want anything?”

“Four o’clock! Is this anytime to eat?” Kanika countered.

“Dadi do you want anything?” He insisted.

“No.” She pressed her lips but the urge was too strong and she had been lecturing for too long. “This new generation has gone to the dogs. The way they throw money around is downright criminal. No wonder they have to resort to illegal means to supplement their income.” She said pointedly but it didn’t seem to register with Rishi. “That is why is country is steeped in corruption. Materialism. No strength of character to tolerate the slightest bit of inconvenience.”

“Dadi please!” Rishi continued to tap on his laptop.

“Humph.” She turned her head and resolutely looked away.

“Dadi would you like to have some pizza?” He offered when the order arrived.

“Sacrilege! Don’t you have any sense but to offer me non-vegetarian food?!” Kanika turned all possible shades of blue and purple.

“Sorry Dadi. Have some Coke. I know you like that.” He poured out some for her and offered it to her. She turned her head away. Rishi kept it on the table by her bed.Rishi put his phone on charging and settled down to eat.

“Eat slowly son!” Kanika couldn’t help cautioning. “Nobody is going to take it away from you.”

“The phone rang. “Yes Ma?” he put in on speaker.

“Where are you?”

“With Dadi. On speaker phone.” He warned casting a glance at his grandmother.

“Why didn’t you inform me that you had reached? I have been so worried.”

“I was busy.”

“You are always busy. Are you eating?”

“Yes.”

“What are you eating?”

“Pizza.”

“Why pizza? What happened to the lunch I packed you?”

“It’s lying in office. I have been out in the field since morning.”

“You haven’t eaten anything since 7 am?”

“Where’s the time or the scope? When are you coming Mom?”

“I don’t know. Let me see, perhaps around 7 pm? That way I can get dinner for your Dadi as well and save on a trip.”

“I don’t want to have dinner at 7 pm! Is that any time for dinner?” Kanika interrupted.

“Dadi you can have it later…”

“It will get cold.” Kanika pursed her lips.

Rishi sighed. “But Ma, I have to leave by 7 pm. Can you tell Father to come straight to the hospital from work? Then you can come with the dinner later?”

“No!” Dadi interrupted, “Sunil has a lot on his plate. After office he has to go to the railway booking counter and cancel my train ticket…”

“I already did that Dadi,” Rishi held up his phone.

“Oh!” Kanika was silenced.

“Please Ma.” Rishi insisted.

“Okay.”

“Thanks Ma.” He disconnected the phone.

“What’s so important at 8 pm that you have to inconvenience everyone?” Kanika asked.

“I have a party.”

“Party! That’s right of course. Your Granny is in the hospital and you have to go partying.”

“Dadi….”

“Enough.” Dadi raised her hand. “That’s all the new generation thinks of – partying, drinking and blowing up money. And getting hooked up with unsuitable girls. Learn something from your father. He worked hard and came straight back home. In fact, he still does. While you,” she shook her head, “have no sense of responsibility or priority. Instead of helping out while your poor granny is ill and hospitalized…” Kanika trailed off.

Rishi had walked out of the room.

Kanika felt awful. Tears rolled down her cheek. How could her dearest little Rishi, her joy, her pride, her raison d’etre do this – steal from his granny? If only you had asked son, if only, she cried silently.

“Namaste Dadiji.” Muniya, their daily help, stood there wringing her hands. “Forgive me Dadiji. It’s entirely my fault Dadiji that you broke your leg. Bhabhi has told me so many times to make sure the floor is dry but…” she sniffed.

“Don’t cry Muniya.” Kanika consoled her. “It was meant to be. It is the will of Gopalji to punish me. I must have done something wrong sometime. You are but a tool in His plans.”

Muniya sniffed and wiped her face on the edge of her sari. “What do you need to be punished for? You have never done an unkind act in your life. You have been so kind to me. If you hadn’t loaned me the money for my son’s treatment…”

“Loaned you money?” Kanika frowned.

“Yes Dadiji. Don’t you remember? Last month Pappu fell ill and I needed money, you gave me a check of Rs 5000 for his tests and medicines?”

“Oh!” A load rolled of Kanika’s heart. She could have danced but for her broken leg. Perhaps even on one leg. She was so happy. Her darling Rishi was blameless! He wasn’t a thief. You did right to punish me Gopal, she sent up a prayer of thanks, and for sending Muniya to set my suspicious senile mind right.

Kanika reached out to sip at the Coke.

“Rishi beta sit down and talk to your Dadi,” she coaxed wishing she could hold him in her arms and mutter apologies. How could she have suspected her beloved grandson?

“Later Dadi. I have a lot of work.” Rishi didn’t even look up.

“What work? Just playing on your phone!” Eager to make amends, Kanika lashed out at being thwarted. “Either listening to music, seeing movies or chatting with your friends. No time for your old granny, who knows how much time I have left on this earth?”

“Oh please Dadi,” Rishi’s eyes were glued to his phone as his fingers moved effortlessly over it. “You have been saying that since my childhood.”

“Nonsense! What do you remember of your childhood?”

“Many things. Some are clear vivid images – like me begging you to switch off the TV and tell me a story. And you batting me away eyes glued to the TV.”

“Are you taking revenge for that?”

Rishi laughed and shrugged. “Perhaps. Who knows?” He got up and switched on the TV. He put the remote by her side. “Are you okay?”

She nodded.

“Any pain? Discomfort?”

She shrugged. “Nothing I can’t bear. Pain and discomfort have been a part of my life as far as I can remember.”

“Oh Dadi!” Exasperated Rishi rolled his eyes. “Why does everything have to be epic tragedy?”

“Humph.” She grunted.

He settled her comfortably. “Okay?”

“As okay as is possible…” she began.

“Oh Dadi, you are impossible!” He laughed.

“You won’t understand now. You’ll understand when you are my age…”

“And Dadi, you don’t know how it is…”

“Yes, yes, I don’t know anything. My hair turned grey by just sitting in the sun. Only you know everything!”

“Uff Dadi please.” Rishi buried himself in his laptop.

Kanika was left alone with her thoughts, until Sunil came.

“Mother!”

“Son! I am so glad you have come.” Kanika cheered up. “This boy of yours is impossible.” She vented. “Just because he wants to party you didn’t get any chance to go home, take some rest before coming. It’s all his mother’s fault for not bringing him up properly.”

“Oh great!” Rishi threw up his hands. “Have fun Father. I am off.” He began stuffing his bag.”

“Wait Rishi. Where are you going? What is this party? Is that more important than your family?”

“It’s part of my job profile Father.”

“Job? Which job demands partying and drinking?” Sunil retorted.

“You want to know about my party?” Rishi snapped. “You think I want to go to this party? That I am going to there to eat, drink, and be merry? You are wrong. I have to first go home. Freshen up and change. Take the train back to the party venue to join my boss and his wife. They want to drink. But they are too stingy to hire a cab or a driver. So I will have to drive them back home after they get drunk. Which means I cannot drink. If I am lucky I will be offered dinner and catch the last train. If not, there’s no saying what transportation will be available at that time or when I will reach home. This is my party. Not drugs drinks and girls like Dadi imagines.”

“Mind your tone Rishi!” Sunil tried to regain the upper hand.

“Let it be Sunil,” Kanika restrained her son, “He is right. I have forgotten how it is to be his age. Worse, I have little or no understanding of the changed dynamics and pressures of the modern world.” She held out her arms. “I am sorry Rishi.”

 ***

Thank you for reading, look forward to your comments and constructive criticisms – was it too long (yes it was!) boring (do tell), confusing, anything I should have done or not done?

 

Sauce for the Gander

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Photo (c) Roger Bultot

Sauce for the Gander

 Words 100

“Chunnilal!”

“Who’s it?” Chunnilal called from within.

“It’s your friend. Was amnesia part of your dowry?”

“Come in!”

“A remarkable transformation of your dingy squalid quarters.” Kanha whistled.

“My wife’s handiwork.”

“Mmm the aroma of freshly tempered dal! Makes me regret bachelorhood.”

“Stay for dinner.” Chunnilal succumbed to his wife’s nudge.

“Not today. I’ve been summoned by your heartbroken paramour.” He winked and vanished.

“That troublemaker!” Chunnilal cursed.

“But not a liar.”

“It was before…”

“Would you overlook my ‘before’?” She challenged.

“I would.” He swore.

“Then we are even.” She smiled.

“You mean…NO! Get out.”

“Even but not equal.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thank you Rochelle for hosting the challenge and Roger Bultot for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

Thanks for reading – have a great weekend 🙂

CFFC: Be Colorful

Yay! It’s time for Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge and the topic this week is the letter B and the topic needs to be any color that starts with the letter B. Initially I was stumped but when I scrolled through my recent clicks I had zillions which fit the bill. Shall we get started? What? You dont have so much time? Okay fine – just a few, then, or maybe just a few more than just a few 😉

Ready? Of we go…

TrainA blue train from the window of my train 😀

BuffaloA black buffalo with two black crows taking a little rest between flights.

BranchesBare brown branches amidst the lush greenery. Not everyone flourishes at the same time.

SeatsTrying to catch the egrets from between two brown seats. Stretching it a bit too far eh 😀

Bench

Brick red benches at a deserted tiny station with blue and white fencing

StreamThe brown mud of a dried up stream. Had enough of the train journey? Let’s climb down shall we?

StairsDown the stairs with brown wooden paneling

ScreenA battered brown screen. Wonder why only the lower portion is damaged?

PeacockA blue peacock painted on the wall of a roadside restaurant. Pretty neat huh?

CloudsTime to fly back home braving thick black ominous clouds over blue mountains.

DoughnutsMust be hungry after that long round trip? Go on have a doughnut, it’s free. But make sure to choose only a brown one otherwise you are sure to get a rap on your knuckles. What say Cee? 😉 😀

Thanks for your company – have a super day!

 

 

SPF: Come into my Parlor

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Come into my Parlor

Words 200

 “May the best man win!” The colonel toasted the three hapless men sitting in front of him.

Sundari stood behind the colonel, calm and watchful. To look at her one would wonder that only three people had turned up. But then the conditions in the advertisement had been very specific and applications stringently scrutinized.

“To stake your claim on Sundari, you will have to either level that hill in 24 hours, or vanquish the enemy at our borders, or,” he broke off chortling, “marry my daughter.

“Papa!” Tullika gasped.

The colonel ignored Tullika. “Well?”

“This is preposterous,” stuttered the greying gentleman, “to give your precious racehorse to whosoever marries Tullika! If I were younger I would have broken your nose.” He strode off.

“Well?” The colonel was unfazed.

Rakesh, the taller one, bowed, “It would be my pleasure…”

“Really?” hands on her hips, Tullika cut in, “So desperate for a freebie? Be warned, I am high-maintenance, wacky, cranky, fat and ugly.”

“I am game,” Dhruv butted in, “but you’ve got to ditch your crankiness.”

“Fat chance,” she crossed her arms.

“What if I forgo Sundari?”

The colonel shook hands with Rakesh. “Thanks for playing along. Let them battle it out.”

 ***

A/N: Five characters in 200 words – was I too ambitious? Do let me know and thanks for reading.

Written for the Sunday Photo Fiction – a story in 200 words or less. Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting the challenge and Dawn Miller for the amazing photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

For readers of Moonshine, here's Chapter 169

 

 

 

The Critical Ingredient

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The Critical Ingredient

Words 101

 Smriti stared at the decorated nuptial bed in dismay. Which was worse, bedding a complete stranger or her best friend?

“Who needs enemies when you have friends like ours, right?” Shirish murmured behind her.

Her embarrassment eased. She laughed. “I am hungry.”

“Me too.” Awkwardness flared until she caught the teasing glint.

She punched him.

“Ouch!” he protested.

“Wow!” She gaped at the swanky kitchen.

“Like it?”

“I should have married you 30 years ago.” She choked.

He scratched his head. “I couldn’t have afforded a modular kitchen then.”

She slid into his arms. “But you made me laugh even then.”

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting this challenge and Jan Wayne Fields for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

 

A Package Deal

For this week’s Sunday Trees, I have something that is not technically a tree. But that does not detract from its greatness or usefulness 😉 Presenting to you all – the largest herbaceous flowering plant, that is the banana plant.

BantreeThe banana plant has uses other than that of dishing out a complete packaged clean food in bunches. The green leaves were traditionally used as plates and in fact still are in some parts of the country, particularly during festivals and special occasions. The leaves are also used to package and steam food tied up with strings made from the stem, which gives the dish a unique flavor.

BtreeContained within in indistinguishable untidy jungle of leaves is the stem which is also edible. But that is not on my list of foods to eat again before I die – more like to avoid 😉 Further, all parts of the plant are believed to have medicinal properties and have been used in Ayurveda for the treatment of various ailments. For example, cooked flowers are used for bronchitis, dysentery and ulcers. Plant sap is used for stings and bites. The young leaves can be used as a poultice for skin irritations.

BandFlowersA closer shot of the young bananas hanging and the flower. In my part of the country, West Bengal, the dishes cooked with the flower is a delicacy and a personal favorite, unlike the stem. Although I have to confess I haven’t tried my hand at cooking it – preparation and extraction of edible bits is tedious and taxing 😉

That’s all I know about this fascinating tree oops plant.

Anyone like to add their bit?

By the way did you hear about little Tommy who declared, “Of course I know how to spell banana, I just don’t know when to stop” 😉 😀

I hope it’s okay Becca, that this week I shared a plant masquerading as a tree rather than a real tree 🙂

Thanks for visiting – have a great week!

 

SPF: Escape Velocity

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Escape Velocity

 Words 201

Sundar rang the bell, just as Rima came up behind him.

“Where the hell were you?” He rounded upon her. “You made me wait in the heat.”

“I was right behind you,” she opened the door, “and your AC cab just dropped you. I went walking in the heat to drop Neelam to a birthday party.” She held out a glass of chilled water.

“Shut up! How dare you talk to me like that?” He snarled.

“I am learning.” She tapped her chin. “I need to work on my tone.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. Everything is just perfect.” She spread out her arms and twirled on her toes.

“Stop this nonsense right now!” He yelled. “Otherwise,” he raised his hand.

She grabbed their son’s bat. “Otherwise what?” Her voice was firm and even.

“What happened?” he dropped his hand. Where was his meek cowering wife?

Rima laughed. “Didn’t you hear the death knell of male dominance?”

“What rot are you talking?”

“The triple talaq* got banned.”

It was his turn to laugh. “That is for Muslim women. And…”

“The ruling has empowered all women.”

“Rubbish! My word is still the law…”

She hefted the bat. “Overruled by 3 against 1.”

***

 *The Supreme Court of India in a historic verdict on 22nd August 2017 struck down the practice of instant triple talaq by a 3:2 majority in India as unconstitutional and illegal. Triple talaq is a form of Islamic divorce that allows any Muslim man to divorce his wife by simply saying talaq thrice, over Skype, telephone, Whatsapp or by courier. This has not only empowered and liberated Muslim women but also revived hopes of doing away with other myriad social malpractices that continue in the name of religion and tradition.

The eclipse of 1,400 years is finally over and as you can see I am over the moon. 😀

Hip Hip Hurrah!

P.S Regarding the title, just in case it is too technical and the connection obscure, escape velocity is the lowest velocity, which a body must have in order to escape the gravitational attraction of a particular planet or other object.

Written for the Sunday Photo Fiction – a story in 200 words or less. Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting this challenge and the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

For readers of Moonshine, here's Chapter 167

There is Always a Way

Rock treeWhen the going gets tough, the tough get going 

From the Sound of Music
Climb every mountain,
Search high and low,
Follow every highway,
Every path you know.
 
Climb every mountain,
Ford every stream,
Follow every rainbow,
‘Till you find your dream.
 
A dream that will need
All the love you can give,
Every day of your life
For as long as you live.
Linked to Becca’s Sunday Trees – 301

A Clean Slate

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Photo (c) Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

A Clean Slate

 Words 100

“Aren’t you scared of ghosts Nani?”

“Nah. They’re my best friends.”

“Seriously Nani, isn’t it tough staying alone?”

“It is getting difficult dear. Maybe I’ll shift to an old age home.”

“Come and stay with us!”

“Not a good idea dear. You have your own schedules. I am too old and inflexible to fit into them. We’ll get on each others nerves in no time.”

“Will you be able to adjust with strangers?”

“Ever notice how we are nicer, kinder people when with strangers?”

“Yes, but…”

“When there’s no history, no expectations, it’s easier and simpler to get along.”

***

Returning after a hiatus, feeling rusty. Did it work? Do let me know – have a great weekend.

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thank you Rochelle for hosting the challenge and the photo prompt! To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

WPC: Monsoon

Monsoons or the rainy season is a much awaited season in India. Not only do we wait for the rains to rescue us from the blistering heat but also provide life giving water.

For this week’s Photo Challenge: Elemental, I have attempted to capture the many hues of the rainy season.

But first the promised view of the lush green fields from the train 😉

20170804_112506One tiny single room house in the midst of nowhere – quite a reversal from the cities!

RainOn the way back by car we were caught in a torrential blinding downpour. I thought it was the perfect way to capture the rain 😀

RaindropsAnother way of capturing rain is by focusing on puddles – can you make out how heavily it was raining?

ShelterAs the rain gathered intensity, some sought shelter…

Two birds

While the more adventurous ones, reveled in the rains…

Three bathBut unlike the birds, these three didn’t have any choice and hence they bore it stoically and came out squeaky clean 😀

20170720_080609After the rains – clean fresh and sparkling! Yet the monsoons which bring relief from the sweltering heat and also wrecks havoc in many parts of the country.

Water PotThe flower pots are a good indicator aren’t they? And this was just after two hours of rain. Thankfully the rain eased and the water receded. I wonder what would have happened if the rains hadn’t stopped…

Thank you for stopping by 😉