In India, it does not rain randomly. It has more or less fixed time and duration. Rainy season lasts two or three months in a year and it is a fair deal. We know it is rain’s time, so we are mentally prepared to face him, we carry umbrella to shield us.
But in Baltimore, the rain has no discipline at all, it rains whenever and wherever it wants. No fixed time, and no fixed duration. And there is no one to control him even with the superpower status. Since rooms are sound proof, you don’t even know whether it is raining or not. You claim down from the second floor carrying lab top and books and when you open the door it is raining. It is then you realize that you have forgotten to take the umbrella. You curse yourself, rain and the entire environment. All cheerful morning gets mortgaged into the gloomy mood. The next day you claim down well prepared to encounter the rain, but there is a bright sun light laughing at your face, mocking at you. The damn rain is a master bluffer in Baltimore.
In life there are so many things which are unpredictable, for example death; everyone knows that it will come definitely and without fail but no one is sure when and where. But everyone has accepted it as an existential nightmare, though not fully reconciled, learned to live with it by ignoring it totally. In this life, which is filled with extreme anomalies, expecting rain to follow some kind of schedule or time table is a reasonable thing. Or is it too big a favor that gods can’t grand it to poor mortals?
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