I like peace. I like the silence that comes with peace.

I like silence. I like the peace that comes with silence.

Hyderabad Blues

Hyderabad's rain is like a paradox. It drenches you, but still does not drench you.

Same for your clothes. It will continue to rain- an ever-so-slight drizzle- but it will continue nevertheless- conspiring to never let your clothes dry. And then it'll come at the least unexpected of times. Like, it'll be bright and sunny and U'll think- 'Hey it won't rain today!' But then suddenly, it'll start. And sometimes, even when it's cloudy in the morning, and U expect rain to grace the still muddy earth very soon, it'll not rain.

And then, as if it is an instrument of God's justice system, it lashes and drenches those people, at those very times, when they have knowingly done some terribly unjust and wrong things to other people. So, they get drenched, and suffer from cold, and curse the wretched rain for their evening outing gone horribly wrong, and for their misery.

But they don't realise that this is God's way of doing justice on them, for their wretchedness. The rain is not wretched. They are wretched. For which, Nature obviously seems terribly wretched and unrelenting to them.

And then, like a naughty playful boy, the rain gets to the streets and stays there( potholes & depressions are no less on Hyd's roads)- getting splashed on passersby and people sitting on the edges inside autos, and on people going merrily on bikes.

And the naughty rain even conspires with the as-it-is slippery and lavish granite floors of some software company buildings, to make more IT- people slip. And they fall. And then they rise again. And the rain even collects on some unlevelled walking areas, again continuing the splashing phenomenon, this time unknowingly by one employee on the other.

Then on evenings when it rains heavily, it rains gold for autowallahs. They charge exhorbitant rates, and if not agreed to by the potential passengers, the scoundrels simply refuse to take them. That's in case the autos are present and available, which is highly improbable on such days, especially just after office hours end- like 6:30 p.m.

In all probability autos won't be available, and IT people returning from office ( who don't avail company bus services), have to walk down some kilometres. In the rain, in scarcity of umbrellas, covering themselves with hankies/dupattas/books, tiny/huge splashes of muddy water filling the lower half of their jeans/chudidars/trousers/salwars( whatever the case may be).

In Orissa the rain acts more professionally. Heavy rains for half hour or one hour or whatever it is, and then it stops. Stop means a complete STOP. No irritating drizzle which will neither let clothes dry nor let people get wet.

There, whenever it rains, it rains like it never rained- with great enthusiasm and force.

But Hyderabad's rain is like a paradox. It drenches you, but still does not drench you.