Having fished out a copy of My Fair Lady from a collection of some 7,000 DVDs, I sat down on the sofa, poured some beer into the glass and let it roll.
The ominous dark skies were lit up with a sudden burst of lightning and the threat of rain hung heavy in the air. I thanked my stars that I was indoors, safely parked on a comfortable seat with all the little pleasures of life besides me.
While Rex Harrison growled at the lovely Audrey Hepburn in his prim and proper British accent, I fell into a reverie.
As the skies opened in a cacophony of sounds and light, I wondered this damn rain, though essential, can be quite a pain in the rather fatty area in the lower part of the body.
Taking a rather big sip of the beer in disgust, I pondered what it would be like if the rain came from underground and stayed there below the surface instead of overhead. Rather delighted at this line of thought, I further imaged what life would be like in this wonderful city of ours if it happened.
Now Pune is a good city and all that but we have a bunch of people running the show here who have earned a Master’s degree in Delay and Procrastination.
So no rain firstly means absolutely no flooding of roads. Even if the surface resembles the moon, the craters will be fully visible and water won’t collect there.
Though you need a moon buggy to manoeuvre, you can get some healthy exercise with a full body shakeup. Since the authorities rarely meet the rain deadline, at least you can be sure that you don’t have to swim on the rain-filled roads.
Secondly, the citizens of this city are by and large decent, but give them a vehicle and some of them get possessed with a wild desire to splash all and sundry during the rain. A white shirt can be reduced to a brown mess within seconds if you are walking on the road.
Thirdly, life will be a bit brighter too literally. The city, for all its makings of a Smart City, has a dark secret – one drop of rain and the electricity goes off under the guise of broken wires, fallen poles and whatsoever.
That’s alright, but the authorities in charge of the power always have business to attend elsewhere when it pours. Their phones are constantly engaged and even if you do get through there is a stock answer – “We are going there to repair it”.
Don’t bother to ask when. It could be now, the next 15 minutes, or an hour or a day or even five to 30 days.
Along with that, the heavy downpour will make you feel suicidal or lead you to drink and you may end up singing soulful ghazals and pining for ex-lovers who were better left where they were.
Then that stupid hide and seek which you play with the rain in this city almost daily. You wake up to bright sunshine, leave the house in a sunny mood and by the time you are halfway to work, a hard downpour drenches you thoroughly and the only thing left for you to do is tap dance to “Singin’ in The Rain” and catch a cold.
The only benefit there is you can take a day off at work, whether ill or otherwise.
Just then, the voices of Rex Harrison, Wilfrid Hyde-White and Audrey Hepburn (partially dubbed by Julie Andrews) singing “The Rain in Spain” broke the rather pleasurable reverie.
Yes, let it rain as much on the plains of Spain. And let the hurricanes vent out all its fury in Hartford, Hereford and Hampshire.
I’d rather brush up my British accent than get wet in the rain…
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