Rest in peace, mon amie

It's been pouring incessantly. And with it the temperature dipping. Mornings I peep from under my cozy cover and see a dark overcast sky through the curtains and promptly sink back under the warm duvet. Next moment I am up groaning and rushing to let in my chirpy smiling maid.

We watch the rains together for some time till I get into the shower and she gets the kitchen going. All this while, the man sleeps with a silly smile at the corner of his mouth. Probably dreaming of partying in Ibiza. I usually let him be and rush to work.

I like the feeling when I am out on the road heading farther away from home and there's a howling storm chasing me. When umbrellas overturn and little unchaperoned children are almost flown away. I hold my bag closer and watch the world.

I love the rains. I love this city in the rains. It took me two years to feel like this again. Two years to be able to look at blurred sheets of rain and feel the warmth.

On a stormy night, two years ago, a pretty young girl jumped from her 5th floor bedroom window and fell in a heap of broken bones. Life still hovering.

It was a Thursday night. Pasta and baked potatoes night. Yes, every Thursday when the mother skipped her meals, she made the family their favourite dinner. And joined them for dessert later. This night was no different. The daughter got home from work picking up sweets on the way.

After dinner, mom settled down for the sitcoms, dad took the dog out for a walk and she got busy with phone calls.

It started raining hard and dad hurried back. In the dark, he noticed a girl lying and realised she had fallen and was badly hurt. He rushed over and took her in his arms shielding her head from the rains. The dog was barking wildly. A few people gathered and an ambulance appeared. They scooped up the mangled body, which was still breathing and zoomed off in the dark stormy night, sirens blaring. It all happened in less than 5 minutes.

Next day, while the mother cried in my arms screaming at me "why couldn't you save your best friend?" and neighbours and relatives looked accusingly at me, the father said he'll never forgive himself for not recognizing his own dying daughter when he held her in his arms before they took her away. But how could he? I shrieked at myself. It was dark and raining cats and dogs and he has poor eyesight. And how could he possibly think of his laughing daughter upstairs when he sees a woman's broken body lying? And she had changed her clothes too, for god's sake!

Anger seethed in me when I watched her grieving parents. How could she be so selfish? How could she do this? And for the rest of the year and the year after, the rains made me feel miserable. I couldn't even pass her house or her street without nausea taking over. When the sky turned grey, depression took over me as I smelt death everywhere.

This year, it's different. Maybe the change in residence helped. Maybe other changes helped. But I am back to enjoying the beauty of this lovely weather. I am ready with my scrabble board and calorific food and all set to cheat the hubby in a fair and square game. Ready to grab the first and last hot pakora off the plate. I am truly happy as I welcome friends with steaming mugs of coffee and spicy rolls as we settle down to watching movies at home.

And at last, I have dug out pictures of my friend and laughed at the memories. The parties we went to, when she wouldn't eat the whole day so that her tummy sinks into her sexy dress in the evening. She wailed when I laughed at her. At last, I have accepted that my friend must have had a reason. I wish she confided in me. I don't know if I could have helped. It shouldn't matter any more. But I am praying she is at peace. Because I finally am.