“We think sometimes that poverty is only being hungry, naked and homeless. The poverty of being unwanted, unloved and uncared for is the greatest poverty”- Mother Teresa.

What does rain mean to you? Relief, that’s the common reply you would receive at the beginning of the fall. Well, such poetic feeling regarding the season is ephemeral. As it grows older, when you are caught drenched every now and then and your city is waterlogged your sentiment evaporates subsequently. Young lads playing muddy, employees crossing streets in hurry covering their head with hanky, pedestrians taking shelters here and there along with the stray dogs, kids returning home before time in soaked uniform and a lot of them playing with paper-boats are quite familiar while rain.

I know a woman here, aged 28 to 32, I mean probably. Actually, there is no reliable source for the exact information. A thin and dark woman trekking the entire town is expecting recently. Well, how and when (or by whom) she got pregnant are perhaps non-sense questions. So, let’s move forward. Her tummy is akin to a sudden curve in a plain straight line found frequently in statistical graphs. The solid abdomen is a cruel contrast to her vulnerable body. According to the myth, she is a mentally retarded child. Her family dumped her after her mother’s death. Well, it’s better not to get carried away with the obvious following queries. Presently, she is addressed to the streets.

Now let’s get back to the topic. What does she do in rain? She shelters herself under the ‘multi-complexes’, at distance with the shops on the ground floor of the buildings. She stands still lifting her dirty torn dress and leaving her bare feet helplessly wet. She prefers a corner mostly to avoid conflict or attention. Right from the first drop, she turns violent and keeps abusing, awaiting the monster’s exit and therefore dry streets or a warm home again. But where does she go as the water level goes up? A young man guarding the rich residentials says- ‘she goes one or two steps up and locates at the corner of the staircases as long as she is not thrown away’. And where does she stay when it’s raining at night? ‘God knows! If it is dry she is nearby but can’t say anything about the rainy nights.’- he shrugs. I am definite she somehow does manage as a lot of them do in a subway, under a tree, at the railway stations or in a water pipe. As we splash colours to illustrate rainy clouds on canvas, or play music to celebrate monsoon and breeze into wonderful memories, a lot of them keep wandering like cats and dogs to manage some shelter in our big world.