It is raining cats and dogs here in Trivandrum. Sitting here by the window with the laptop and an unfinished book with the bookmark still marking the same page for over a month and hot coffee by my side reminds me of my childhood.
When we were small kids, after coming from school, though steaming coffee (well it was tea then I think) would be available in the flask, both of us wouldn’t touch it till Mom get back from the bank. And on rainy days me and my sister, who by the way, is so scared of lightning (till date) would get to the exact centre of the biggest bed, pull down the mosquito net and cover ourselves in the blanket and wait for Mom to return. Though it was just an hour and a half wait, I remember that it used to feel like ages. With every lightning, she would cling on to me and with every thunder she would scream in the top of her voice. I still don’t know why we thought the centre of the bed was the safest place in the house. That LKG girl has now grown up and her brother too. But when it rains, I still remember my childhood. I wonder if she does the same. Well maybe I should ask her someday.