The rain
Mahfuzul Haque, Department of English, University of Dhaka
I was little perplexed at first as I was in the bus when it started raining. I was coming home at Farmgate from Mirpur. I thought I would not be able to reach home without being wet. I would get cold. I would get fever. I would not be able to continue my daily work. I became so disgusted that I started cursing the rain. When the bus stopped at Farmgate, the rain, it seemed, became stronger perhaps to increase my anger or to answer my silent curse. Many people got down, so did I. Oh! When the drops first dropped on me, I felt a chilling cold running down my nerves and bones. My heated head and brain seemed to lose the aforesaid conflicts of my mind. They were all swept away. The present thrill overpowered me. I started walking -- it was rather like morning walk (though it was 8:00 or 9:00pm) -- slow and steady and singing. My music seemed to make the experience a perfect one. I hummed, whistled, shouted (there was no fear of being looked at because the pavement was deserted, people had taken shelter in the wayside shops), some lines from Tagore's songs, some old Bengali movie songs, some Hindi, some English. However, I came home soaked in rain. It was the first drenching for me in this summer, and I am looking forward to another one. Are you ready to feel the thrill?
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