Just Another Rainy Evening!

"Just Another Rainy Evening – A Memory Etched in Time"

It was just a normal evening.
Heavy rain painted the skies grey and the roads silver. The clouds murmured above like an old lullaby, and there I was – seated by the window, a cup of hot coffee warming my palms, watching the world slow down through the raindrops streaking across the glass.

From my room, the view looked so damn beautiful. The kind that makes you pause. The kind that gently tugs at your chest and makes you feel… something. I didn’t know what exactly – maybe peace, maybe longing, or maybe just a deep gratitude for moments like this.

It was almost 8:00 PM – supper time.

And as usual, I wasn’t alone.
There was Priya, Periya (she’s also Priya, but we call her Periya for obvious reasons), and our beloved Abi akka.
The four of us headed down to the mess, laughing like we always did – the kind of laughter that echoed off the walls and lingered even after we left. That laughter – pure, unfiltered joy – was the sound of home.

Dinner was chapathi and peas.
Simple, yes. But oh, what a jackpot!
On most days, we barely got any peas even if we begged the kitchen staff. But that day – oh, that glorious day – the peas were generous. It was a rare blessing in our little universe. A moment so small, yet it made us all so weirdly happy.

We each grabbed two to three chapathis and made our way upstairs. The rain made it impossible to sit down outside and chat like we usually did. But it didn’t matter – the joy followed us up.

Priya had invigilation duty that day – the semester exams were going on for April 2025 – and she had spent most of her day standing. Exhausted, she smiled and said, “I’ll freshen up and eat later, don’t wait for me.”
And then there was Periya – with her usual bundle of tasks – heading back to her room, apologetically waving goodbye.

So it was just me and Abi akka.

We sat there with the warm chapathis and a bottle of water between us, the rain still dancing outside, and just started eating. And talking.
God, the conversation that followed.

It wasn't anything grand. No life-changing confessions. No dramatic stories. Just… raw, simple, real talk. About the day, about the rain, about memories and tiny things. We spoke of nothing and everything.

And in that moment, between bites of chapathi and the echoes of our soft laughter, I realized something.

These were the moments I’d miss someday.

Not the big milestones, not the grand adventures – but this.
The chapathi with too many peas. The sound of rain. The feeling of being safe with people who get you. The way the window looked at 8 PM on a rainy day. The laughter that felt like home. The names we gave each other. The unspoken bond of sharing dinner and stories.

I don’t know when we’ll all sit like that again.
Life moves. People move. But memories… they stay.

And this memory – this "normal" rainy evening –
It’s not just a memory.

It’s a piece of my heart.