Bordoichila*

It came as suddenly as it should.

Yesterday, late in the afternoon, while engrossed in a book I suddenly realized that the lights were fading rather rapidly. Surprised, I looked out of the window and there I saw it coming, in all its magnificence -- great masses of dark ominous clouds piling up in the distant horizon, preparing for the onslaught.

It was the first day of Baisakh and in the eastern and north-eastern regions of India, where I grew up, this is a common sight during this time of the year. But here in the western part of India, thousands of miles away, I was not too sure that I'll sight this, and that too at such precise timing. Needless to say, I was thrilled. I tossed my book away and came near the window, ready to watch the imminent show.

First came the winds, carrying dust, dry leaves, twigs and an assortment of other little things. In a few minutes, the winds caught up ferocious speed, and went about on a plundering spree. Sensing trouble, a few sparrows flew past for a safer spot. A dog and a few puppies also ran past, looking for a shelter. People went inside their houses and shut their windows tight, to avoid any sort of nuisance. Only the trees stood, swaying but not surrendering.

And then came the rains, escorted by an army of thunder and lightning. Large droplets came hurling down, making pattering noise on the tin roofs. The air became deliciously cool and heavy with the aroma of wet earth. Dusts settled and trees came to life. And I, standing by the window, oblivious of the occasional sprays of raindrops on my face, found myself flooded with a torrent of rain-soaked memories.

Didn't I already say it somewhere, rains always do strange things to me.

* Bordoichila, in Assamese, means the pre-monsoon storms that are predominant in Assam in the month of Bohag (Baisakh). There is similar term in Bengali too: kaal-baisakhi (fatal storm of Baisakh, called so because of the violent destructive winds that often create havoc).