Thoughts on a rainy morning.

Its been a long time that I have blogged. Well, here I am back again, trying to put those thoughts in as bytes before they get buried in my skull and get pushed back into that attic which holds all those backlogged memories. Everyone has that attic in their head, don't they? The place where people push in their thoughts and memories that they don't want to deal with, and would rather want to forget. If not forget, postpone them later when the time comes.

I started walking towards my bus stop, and it was a rainy day. I, who haven't seen the light of day at 6 AM in the morning, am walking down a road with puddles, with a raincoat to work. I pulled the raincoat sleeves tighter and started to jog. Slowly it rained heavily with increasing pace, as if the rain is mocking me and threatened to engulf me in. Silly thing, people crib about heat all the time, and when it rains no one stays out.I don't like rains. Rains make me moody. I don't want to be out when it rains. Still, here I am, walking down to my bus stop to board a bus to my work, on a rainy day at 8 in the morning during my summer break.

I work as a intern programmer in a company doing game development for Nintendo DSi. The hand held Nintendo game station. I have learnt a lot over the two months I have been there, more than I have ever read in books all my graduate life.

I have a tendency to work hard. Overwork more like. I think that if I don't work hard, then I don't deserve the good days that I enjoy. My dad taught me that. May be it is true. May be it is not. But I don't know how I can weigh my hard work against the "good times" I enjoy. I don't know if it has all been worth it. Nevertheless we all do what we have to do, don't we?

I resigned myself to the rain, I didn't stop for shelter, I have a bus to catch and work to do. The rain didn't stop either. I saw people trotting towards shelter with bags, papers and umbrellas and whatnot to cover their head. Funny, I thought again, we have a bath everyday, and still would not want to get wet in the rain. A few dogs ran by. They didn't care. They didn't have to write entrance examinations, no work, no responsibilities, and they can sleep where ever they can. Well, being a dog has its advantages I guess.

I reached my bus stop. The crossroads was bustling with traffic. There was a gathering at the center and some MLA was talking about YSR- it's his birthday today. There a few auto drivers and a few guys who have no idea whatsoever about what that guy is talking about. They just say "amar rahe" once in a while when everyone else does. Mob.

Everyone in that crossroads is doing something. I see the flower vendor earnestly checking her flowers and covering the small cart of hers with cloth draping to protect against the rain. Who anyone buy flowers in the pouring rain? May be they do, may be they don't. But the vendor earnestly shouts out to passersby to buy flowers. Is his hard work justified. Does he make enough profit equivalent to the sore throat that he gets for shouting all day? May be yes, May be no, we can't say. I guess that's the way it is. You do what you have to and sit for wait, for the things to move by themselves. They move only after you give a momentum.

My thoughts are interrupted by the honk of the bus. The driver was ushering me in. I smiled at him and started walking back. I took off my rain coat and looked up. In moments my spectacles are blotched by the huge drops. I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out like a kid, it tasted clear and pure. I dropped my bag and started running. It felt good as the wind whipped my face and I felt goosebumps all over my body as I felt the cold water slowly piercing through my clothes and wet my whole body. It felt damn good to run, run in the rain without a care in the world. Wish I could run until I run out of breath.. wish I...

My thoughts are interrupted by the honk of the bus. The driver was ushering me in. I got in, thinking about the month's pay and a color palette file which needed modification.