It was yet another hot, dusty and humid day. The drudgery of my job was making it seem more horrible than it was. I was just waiting for the hands of the clock to strike the right pose and indicate that it was time for me leave behind this world of slavery and head home.
Eventually they did.
I picked my things up and left. Just as I stepped out of the building, I noticed that the sky had turned an odd shade of orange with a few dark clouds in the background, I guessed that it was a dust storm building up. Perfect! just what I needed to make my day better; a sand bath on my way home, I thought to myself. Surely enough, the wind began to howl and coat me with fine dust. I cursed under my breath.
Thankfully though this was only a momentary hindrance, the season’s first showers wanted to toy with the citizens of this city a bit more before granting relief. The weather in a matter of minutes turned pleasant and the heavens started to open up. By the time I got home it had begun to rain quite steadily.
While commuting, I was reminded of the monsoons back when I was kid, those late evening showers on the way back from school, would have us scampering under trees and ledges of buildings, lest our bags and books get drenched. We’d kick and splash water and muck on each other, get home soaking wet only to be admonished and ushered into the bathrooms for a hot shower. On emerging I’d find a plate or bowl of a hot snack waiting for me.
While climbing up the stairs to my floor, I began to hum a cheesy “rain song” and was hoping against hope that a cup of hot tea would magically present itself. Much to my surprise the cup wasn’t there to welcome me.
I didn’t let it disappoint me too much, the scene outside was far to cheerful to let small things dampen my spirit. I changed as quickly as I could and put on a pan to make tea. As the water boiled, I felt that some pakoras would go great with this tea. So I set out to make the batter, chop/slice the onions and the potatoes. The tea was ready and as fate would have it, there was enough to make to two cups, so I poured one for now and kept the rest aside for later, to be had with the crispy, goldenpakoras.
Frying, drying, tossing of spices all took place and the promised feast was finally ready. I reheated the leftover tea, poured it in to a cup, carried the pakoras in a bowl and made my way to the door, so that I could sip my tea and eat my snack listening to the symphony of the rain and feel the cool breeze. As I sat there sipping on my tea, I thought I’d call my mom and tell her of son’s achievement. I couldn’t get through, just as I was about to put the phone back, I noticed the time on the phone and realised that this culinary feat took me close to 2 hours. I immediately sent mom a sms, “it’s raining here today. was remind of home and your snacks, decided to make tea and pakoras. It took me 2 hours though. wonder how you instantly produced stuff? “.
I put my phone down and slowly forgot all about it. I had finished my tea and my snack and was now enjoying the much needed break from the oppressive heat and grime.
Almost an hour later, my phone buzzed, it was a reply from mom. I read and let out a little chuckle.
It read ” Beta, it’s just like how it takes me 15 minutes to type this message. Hope you enjoyed your snack. Love, ma”