Daddy and I used to have them all the time during monsoon. I can close my eyes and remember the brown sofas. I would cozy myself in the corner, by the window, often looking out through the swing and the trees to see if Raju had gotten us our treats by then. To keep me from my usual restlessness, Daddy would prepare (okay, he wouldn't really, but he would get someone to do it) a nice BIG cup of hot Bournvita with more Bournvita than milk in it. It would make me extremely happy because I loved cloudy Bangalore weather. Sure, the Sun made it beautiful and what not, but there's a certain coziness to cloudy weather you cannot feel anytime else. Sometimes we would read silently, or play monopoly or scrabble. (Scrabble usually, Daddy often got impatient while playing monopoly.) Occasionally, we would play carom if Raju was around. All this while chomping on hot, delicious mensinkayi bajji and aloo bonda. If I dared enough, I would ask for another cup of Bournvita, and if it wasn't too close to Mum's arrival from office, I would get it.
Today, when I woke up, it took me half a minute to register that I wasn't in Bangalore anymore. Rather, I was half across the country in my dull room in Calcutta. Yet, I cannot help but remember the rain that reminds me of home.