Note: This post should have come immediately on the next day of the preceding post. But owing to a malicious attack on my machine and a getting-back-into-the-groove attitude, I put any thoughts of reapir postponed.
Quite contrary to the expectations of a thick fog, the weather was more or less like a day from the english country side. The sun was smiling down like a newly-wed bride peeking out from her carriage. It was in short one of those beautiful days you will want to remember your entire life.
Around four in the evening though, it seemed as though someone had turned off all lights, a dull pinkish evening greeted sleepy eyes. But every rose has its thorns and the weather brought along with it fine dust that found home in our eyes. Nonetheless, the rain had soon arrived and it had rained like a baby uncontrollably crying. The sweet scent of the land and the sight of the trees in a new yellowish light lifted our aesthetic senses higher and higher. The weather was blissful for a while and then suddenly the lights had turned back on. It was resembling the lone polling station in Leh that many newspapers had printed. The wind was so cold that it sent every single soul back into their warm razais.
But we were in for another surprise, the dusty rain resumed and turned into a hail storm. Our footballers returned from the playground looking like crestfallen Mexican farmers who had lost their crops. Nature decided to play music on the cycles that were parked outside and we kept humming along.
A day of complete turnarounds, a lot of hope pumped into a few dying souls, and a whole lot of work awaited us.
P.S. : Also today happens to be the founder's day for Nirmaan: a non-governmental, non-profit organization which lives up to its motto of My India through various forms of social service like helping the villager's earn their daily bread, teaching their kids and construct useful technology that would help them in their future.
