শহরে বৃষ্টি

A new(well, almost) bengali year and a fresh new rainy season. This time, it was much awaited after the loo-ed april and how it comes!! Every rainy season is fresh and so enjoyable, so full of memories....you just can't stop become romantic(if you are not a flu patient).
But somehow, I can't enjoy rain in kollkata as much as I used to do in my home. In my memory, rain has a sound....sound of rain in asbestos roof, which almost sounds like ghungur in ladies feet.
For me, rain still means football in mudded playground of our school....after half an hour play, you can easily do a 'catch-me-if-you-can' with your dad, I bet.
And, also for me, it is khichudi-beguni-maach_bhaja. It is also about loadshedding(this two was almost same in my memory, as electric office can't risk electricity with overhead wire)...a relief from homework and rupkotha and bhuter golpo by a old lady, who was working in our house as a randhuni in a dimly litted lanthen er aalo.All these are missing these days here in kolkata; no rupkotha left in life...no romance comes with barsha...."asharashya prathom dibosh" passes as any other dull day of the year.