I Preach. I Follow?

 

"Mom, pitchforks and hammer handles are falling from the sky!" In such a storm, I'd be washed away." "Put on your raincoat and go to the grocery to grab some fresh vegetables." In an authoritarian system, I felt like the helpless media. I scuffled into the entryway, wearing my transparent raincoat over my striped pajamas. After such a long time, it felt good to get out. The dusty trucks appeared to have received a thorough makeover and were now gleaming in the night's darkness. The pelting raindrops negotiated for the streets' vacancy, even though they were empty. I've loved the monsoon season since I was a kid, and rainy days used to make me feel like I was on cloud nine. As I approached adolescence, though, electronic games kept me away from magical showers. As I approached the grocery shop, I thought to myself, "Today, I get to experience the good old days."

The shop featured a wide variety of products for sale, but my gaze was drawn to the vibrant, orchard-fresh veggies. I snatched up a basket, stuffed it with greens, and dashed over to the cashier. "Congratulations on winning the 'Beat the Clock Challenge,' sir." You stuffed your basket with vegetables and got to the cashier in under two minutes. As a result, here's a guide to being the fastest of all our clients." When I was given a book of spells, I teased, "This may easily offer me a break in the Harry Potter series." The book appeared to be an antique, with enough pages to turn you into Harry Houdini. At first, the book appeared to be nothing more than a collection of foolish spells, but as the night progressed, I felt an insatiable compulsion to read it. "Zaaro ti Kaara," I carefully recited the first spell, completely oblivious to the repercussions. My feet were no longer on the ground as I plodded towards my bed; I was levitating. The magic gradually revealed its strength, lifting me from the glass pane and into the starry sky. As I climbed higher, I could feel the wind cutting my T-shirt and droplets sliding off my exposed skin. I was at the pinnacle of the pitch-black sky in the blink of an eye. The entire city was visible from above, and it was a fascinating sight to behold. I felt as if I were in a utopian dream, with glowing buildings, unclogged roads, a fresh wind, and the pitter-patter of raindrops. Everything appeared to be in order, but the smell of rain was completely ignored.

People were caught up in the routine of their jobs. The tech-savvy children were engrossed in their boat simulation games. As it flowed down the quiet street, the pools of rainwater gave the appearance of an unwelcome visitor. "A paper boat is an odd concept here," I reminded myself as I drifted approaching a cluster of sad-looking trees. "Hey, pal, what's the matter with you?" I inquired of the tallest tree in the area. "It's the monsoon's first shower, yet there's hardly anyone left to rejoice." We enjoyed this momentous day together last year, but a few members of my hapless family were transferred across the street a few days ago. When it rained, we spoke, swayed, and shared our feelings. They, on the other hand, couldn't take our happiness and decided to separate us." "We have extinguished their delight; they were the only ones who appreciated rain!" I pondered this as I made my way to a remote patch of land.

When I arrived, I discovered that the area had devolved into a battleground, with one half battling the other. I attempted to resolve the conflict, but it was futile. The two appeared to be so focused on the fight that they had lost track of their surroundings. "How come they're fighting?" I inquired of the saturated road, which was the only witness to the brawl. "You see until the droplets hit their surface, their link was strong. People like us are made of concrete, and we don't let stupid raindrops soak into our skin. They, on the other hand, consider it to be the elixir of life. They claim it rehydrates their dry stomachs, therefore they're fighting over it."

I couldn't take the gore any longer and speed towards the city's outskirts. The pungent petrichor overwhelmed the odor of burning tires as I gained elevation and approached the city's outskirts. The trees became enraged and began to dance to the beat of the raindrops. The dingy dirt recovered its shine, dispelling the gloom of a rainy evening. The sewers were filled with paper boats, but the effervescent kids were unfazed and continued their boat race. The euphoric adults congregated in a sacred space and prayed to the divine. A disembodied voice prevented my attempt to land on an unmetalled road a few inches distant from the gathering. "Get on your way!" "The magic is going to end," said the voice, which then vanished in the blink of an eye. I came to a standstill in the middle of my landing. "Getting to the city without the spell would be a difficult feat," I mused and turned around to return home.

Despite being separated by a few kilometers, the two regions were poles apart when it came to understanding rain. On one side, there was an elite class famed for their intelligence, and on the other, there were people. Rainswept away their bliss on one side and sprouted flowers on the other. Rain, which had been an impediment on one side, had become a bridge on the other. When I got home, my thoughts were constantly flowing. I retired for the night with the windows closed as the clock approached 11 p.m. The "pitter-patter raindrops" signaled the passage of time as I waited for my never-ending dream to come to an end.

-Swathi M