Today was a tiring day. There was work, work and more work. And a reluctance to finish it, as is the case with most of us. To top it all, while returning from work, our bus broke down, and we were all shepherded off by the transport people to another (already full) bus. It was raining heavily, there was a lot of traffic due to the ongoing Ganesh festivities in the city and a lot of us with our strained eyes and aching backs were standing in an over-crowded stuffy bus.
Somewhere, near Kundanahalli gate, I saw the raindrops falling on a street light. The amber light was turning every raindrop into a drop of gold, as it fell on it, then splashed off it in all directions, as smaller droplets. Golden droplets. It reminded of the days when I had first arrived in Bangalore.
I used to live in BTM 2nd stage back then. It was a safe place, not like what it has become of late (I know this from experience (a very very bad experience) and also some experiences that some acquaintances have faced). We (me and friends) would go on long walks and sit on park benches or footpaths and talk and listen to songs. This was done mostly during the night, after work. This one night, we were sitting on the raised platform at the entrance of the post office. Talking, listening to music as usual. It was past midnight. The streetlight next to the post box was casting a golden glow around – on the fallen leaves and flowers on the road, on the platform we were sitting on, on the abandoned thela on one side of the road, on the green (now golden green) gate of the park in front of us, and the parked Maruti 800s and Omnis. Suddenly it began to drizzle. We did not run. If anything, we got up and played (read – jumped, hopped, danced) in the rain. There was no one around, we had already been playing music, the rain wasn’t heavy, and the amber light provided the perfect ambience.
I had some pictures of that day (taken on our cellphones four years ago) but I lost them. It was one of the events of my adult life that was so purely child-like and fun! I have lost the photograph, but will try to keep this essay forever, as an attempt to re-create what that night was.