Chapter 295 Rain
The most commendable season in Mumbai is the rainy season. Experienced Marathi people can smell the coming rain a few days in advance.
"It's going to rain!" the children downstairs shouted as they ran.
"Is it going to rain now?" asked a passerby in surprise.
Yes, it is coming, people in Mumbai are all too familiar with this smell.
It had always been like this since childhood. Thunder would roar for four days straight, and people would look up at the gray sky, gasping for breath along with the animals in the hot, humid air.
Suddenly the wind blew, picking up the dormant sand and blowing it away in a whirlwind.
"This summer is hotter and longer than usual."
Despite what people said last year and every year before, this is an old tradition in late summer and early fall.
This kind of weather is more suitable for playing football, hopscotch and marbles.
The long and hot summer is not a good time to play cricket. Children swing their bats listlessly, waiting for the weather to cool down boredly.
The small appliance store downstairs has started to stock new products. The words "rice cooker" and "juicer" are written on the small blackboard, and they are all Sol brand.
Passersby stopped to watch. Everyone knows that this brand of electrical appliances is famous for its good quality and low price.
Sure enough, the figures of 1200 rupees and 600 rupees aroused people's interest.
After several years of opening up and development, Mumbai's economy has become extremely vibrant, and ordinary people have begun to enjoy the dividends of the times.
Coupled with the government's intention to devalue the rupee and stimulate international trade, people's income has increased significantly.
Nowadays, even the most ordinary workers in garment factories earn more than 2,000 rupees a month.
They still live in slums that look like tube-shaped buildings, but they are more pursuing the enjoyment of life than before.
They have only heard of high-end appliances like rice cookers but have never seen them. They are only used by rich people.
It is said that as long as it is connected to the electricity, the fragrant Indian basmati rice will be cooked automatically, and women no longer need to stand by the clay pot and keep an eye on the fire.
The corners of the room were so covered in coal dust that their original color disappeared, and even the cabinets and bedside tables were not spared.
If they could use this thing to cook in the future, they wouldn't have to lie on the ground and wipe the putty that is extremely difficult to clean.
People gathered in front of the shop and chattered about whether this thing was really as magical as the legend said.
The shop owner was too lazy to explain to the neighbors one by one, so he simply brought a sample machine and started cooking fragrant rice on the spot.
Add rice, add water, then show the middle finger, and the people watching burst into laughter.
The shop owner blushed and explained that this was the secret technique of the Sur rice cooker, which made cooking rice incredibly easy.
More and more people came to watch the fun, and no one seemed to be busy, just like the dark clouds in the sky, slowly gathering together.
The clouds have been gathering thicker each day, sometimes turning into dark, smoky clouds. The birds are flapping their wings rapidly, as if trying to escape the storm as quickly as possible.
The children came to the yard and the street in old clothes, waiting and expecting, but soon lost their patience and started chasing and playing with each other, teasing their thin and less agile playmates.
They also pranked car tires and wrote chaotic doggerel on the walls of the girls' school, listening to the old lady next door muttering, "It's going to rain, it's going to rain."
But the rain didn't come, the farmers were on high alert, the government was on high alert, and the newspapers were full of worrying weather forecasts.
The green lawn of the girls' school was wilted and people were not allowed to step on it, but the children insisted on sneaking into the campus and playing hockey in the flower beds carefully maintained by the school workers, crushing the delicate flower seedlings under their feet.
The sea is also lazy, as if it is about to fall asleep, and urgently needs a heavy rain to awaken its vitality.
While the adults were watching the excitement at the electrical appliance store, the naughty children came to the shallows to try their hand at catching the small fish and shrimps that had quietly remained in the crevices of the rocks when the tide receded.
The city is suffering from severe water shortage and the pipes are empty.
There was no water to wash the body, no water to wash the clothes soiled by the body, and even drinking water became a problem.
Water trucks arrived one after another from the inland, and servants lined up with buckets, paying high fees for the brackish and astringent water.
But they were inevitably reckless and spilled half of the water before taking it home, allowing the thirsty earth to quickly absorb it. Seeing this, the hostess naturally scolded them.
Mumbai badly needs monsoon, and many people dream of it.
At night, weary people dream of rivers and waterfalls. They watch the heavy snow in Kashmir at the cinema, and the heroine's sari soaked by the rain as she dances.
They gazed at the endless stream of water falling from the sky on the screen, whether it was snow or rain, whether it was natural or artificial. Their gaze was so greedy and they were so silent.
They bought cassettes with the sounds of crashing waves and gurgling streams, and only then did they fall asleep while listening to the gurgling of clear mountain springs.
Until today, when you know a storm is coming and you smell it coming in from the sea.
The wind picked up speed, and the sandstorm gained momentum, as if all the dust in the world had risen into the air and poured in through the open windows.
The children playing downstairs stopped playing, covered their mouths and closed their eyes.
Dust got into their hair and their eyes. They had never hated summer as much as they did at that moment. They were sweating all day and could not bear the heat even for a second.
The clouds overhead surged rapidly, as if two armies were fighting in heaven and spies were constantly passing through. The sky turned dark blue, like the blue neck of Shiva who had swallowed poison.
"The fragrant rice is ready! The fragrant rice is ready!"
With a clicking sound, the shop owner shouted loudly.
The adults turned their gaze away from the sky above their heads and gathered around the chubby rice cooker.
As a cloud of thick steam rose, white, long, crystal clear fragrant rice appeared, which was particularly dazzling.
"Wow! It smells so good!" People couldn't help but twitch their noses.
Even the children playing on the street were attracted over, as they also smelled the delicious food.
"Come and try it!" The owner wrapped some rice in banana leaves and handed it to the crowd.
Everyone blew on it, then hurriedly picked up the rice and stuffed it into their mouths.
"Delicious!" Smacking sounds were heard everywhere.
"1200 rupees, that's cheap, right? Imported goods cost 1800! This is made in Sur, a well-known brand!"
The shop owner took the opportunity to sell his products, and many women were tempted because the price was really not expensive.
Some people have Soul brand televisions at home, which are just as durable and easy to use.
In order to do business, the store owner also innovatively launched a combination set.
"Buy a Soul brand rice cooker and juicer together and get a free set of kitchenware! Juicer, now's the perfect time to buy one."
It's going to rain soon, and the leftover fruits at home will rot and mold. With a juicer, you can make juice and store it in a clay cellar.
The squeezed pulp can also be made into snacks for children, and it’s cheap!
Fruits in South India are so cheap that they are practically free, and every household can buy a variety of tropical fruits.
But storage is a big problem, especially in Mumbai’s hot and humid summers.
The woman wanted to buy a juicer not only for making juice, but also because many Indian delicacies require chopped fruit pulp as an ingredient.
A small juicer costs only 600 rupees, while foreign products cost 1000 rupees. Not only is it cheap, but it can also be used to make drinks and delicacies, and has many uses.
Some people came forward to bargain, and another asked if he could get a discount on a Sur brand rice cooker and electric fan, as he didn't need a juicer.
After the shop owner agreed to give him a 10% discount on the electric fan, the man happily paid for it immediately.
The front of the shop was crowded with people. Suddenly, the first drop of rain fell, as thin as a cow hair, almost unnoticeable.
People didn't pay much attention, thinking it was just children playing in the water.
The leaves rustled, and the branches shook in the wind. The wind lashed against the doors and windows, occasionally causing the sound of shattering glass. Birds flew eagerly toward their nests under the eaves of the building, knowing full well that this was no illusion.
A few more drops of rain fell at the same time, and this time everyone understood what was happening. The servants and wives rushed to the window and quickly collected the clothes.
"It's going to rain and the factory will have a power outage. Buy quickly or they will be out of stock later!" The store owner took the opportunity to spread rumors.
The impatient man couldn't resist the temptation, took out the money, and ran back with the box.
A huge flash of lightning tore through the sky, followed by a rumbling thunder that seemed to strike the center of the earth.
However, this was not thunder, but the cheers of millions of children, because finally, finally! The torrential rain arrived as promised.
You've been sweating for so long, your body is so thirsty for it, you've sensed its approach as early as the cows and crows, and now it's finally here.
Your parents taught you: Don't stand outside when the first rain falls, but you won't listen and their scolding is useless.
The first rain is black, carrying with it all the dust and pollutants from the atmosphere. If you get caught in it, you’ll get sick, but you don’t care.
Children from all over the world came out, dancing in the streets, parking lots, and ditches in the heavy rain.
Traffic also surrendered to the children, because the lawless children had the unstoppable rainy season to support them.
The raindrops as big as beans fall down densely, and you are trapped in the overwhelming rain curtain. There is nothing but water in the distance and near.
This is the power of the rainy season. It uses rainwater to build walls and creates the world.
Lightning lights up the sky and disappears in a flash. You look up to catch the rain and wash away the heat.
The rain falls into your eyes, your nose, and your mouth, washing away all sins and all sorrows.
And you will sleep especially soundly tonight because the first rain of summer has come early, and there are still a full fifteen days before school starts.
The owner of the shop looked at the rain and sighed. Unlike the children who were excited, he only felt it was troublesome.
The rain affects business, it is difficult to purchase goods, and it is hard to find trucks with tarpaulins.
He turned and went into the store to make a phone call to order another batch of goods from the distributor.
Since it was his first time selling appliances like rice cookers and juicers, he only ordered twenty units, and they were all sold out just now.
As Mumbai plunged into a world of rain, Ron had already set foot on Tamil soil.
He liked the youthful energy of Madras, which was completely different from the skyscrapers of Mumbai, and lacked the sanctimonious and condescending Western flavor of New Delhi.
Madras has the convenience of a city yet is approachable. It is a city with a southern atmosphere that makes people feel at ease.
Of course, there were huge racial differences, and Ron, a tall, fair-skinned Aryan, stood out among a group of short, dark-skinned Dravidians.
Kavya recognized him immediately; he stood out from the crowd in the airport lobby.
(End of this chapter)
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