Rain,My Books and that Tea Vendor Kid...

"This rain is the final good bye to chilling cold.” said the auto driver, referring to the showers that were obviously quite unpredictable in the month of February. I looked inside, smiled at him and then again started to enjoy the cold wind that was coming on my face, with each wave sending so strong shivers down my spine that I could actually feel it in my back. 

I have always liked this feeling; the extreme cold on my skin, the numb sensation that follows is quite Nirvanic which certainly takes me away from all weltschmerz at least for few moments.

....

14th was the date…14 February 2011 precisely. The events throughout the day had definitely upped my joie-de-vivre and then this Nirvanic auto ride. I felt blissed out. It was 9 at night and I was about a kilometre away from my home and the rain played perfect spoilsport, with no rickshaws around I decided to cover rest of my journey on my foot.

....
Five minutes later, I was walking on the road that connects my Society to national highway, in same chilling wind but this time the blissful feeling seemed to have got up and gone..." Your books are more important"...the voice was playing endlessly before my ears. In between the visuals of the day tried to own up my mind...walking in the alley of college, enjoying with my friends...the laughs...the cheers...that beautiful girl in black and the beats my heart missed on her sight...but again ..."Your books are more important"...Never in my life I had felt so embarrassed about my books...Those five minutes gave my thinking a new dimension.

....

I had got 2 new books issued from college library on that day. I don't know why I decided against carrying bag on my way back to home...maybe I was too tired. So I left it at hostel but couldn't part with those two new books. While returning, as soon as I got down from auto I ran towards a roadside tea shop. Taking me as a prospective customer who wanted to enjoy a cup of hot tea in chilling weather the two teenagers who were packing up for the day gesticulated me to return. I pointed towards my books and then rain; they understood and allowed me to stand under their shed. The younger one seemed to be quite amused by my 1500 page Sedra-Smith. The feeling of awe in his eyes made me feel proud of myself. I wanted to evangelize about the education to him. But that proud was short lived, for in next minute he did something that left me speechless.

He went back to shop, tore a plastic packet of match boxes, resulting them to fall in water, got slapped by older sibling, and then came to me, handled me that packet and said,

"Cover them. Your books are more important."