The tuition session had ended and a wave of tired and droopy students poured out of the front doors. I was one of them. I trudged with my non-compliant legs towards the front gate.
It was about 5 ‘o’ clock, in the early evening.
A bright, orange sky lit up the store-tops. The golden rays hit the silky hair of people on the streets and made them glow ethereally. My eyes didn’t take in these beautiful sights, my mind was focused on reaching home. I took a detour from the huge mob of students towards my usual route.
The sun lit up my path in an unusually red hue. I looked up to the sky and gasped. Huge, dark clouds hovered above, letting the wind carry it on its shoulders. The size of the clouds, however, did not cover the sun. It glowed like a gold coin fixed onto the orange palette. The red sunlight meant one thing; the arrival of a storm.
I started to panic. My tuition bag contained important reference books with questions for upcoming exams. I frantically rummaged through my shoulder bag for an umbrella or at least a cloth bag to protect myself from the incoming rain. I found nothing except for my stationery supplies. I gulped thickly. My eyebrows crunched. I pondered hard. By the looks of the sky, the rain will commence in about 5 or 6 minutes. I need 15 minutes to get home. I decided not to risk it and let my mother know.
The air started to become thick and chilly. I ran through the residential street trying to find a shelter. I couldn’t afford being sick. A light layer of fog formed in the air before me. A light shower started to spray from the skies. My tired feet ached as I continued to run, scanning my surroundings for any kind of shelter. The cold air speared my nostrils as I gasped for oxygen. My mouth became dry and my chapped lips ached like a bruise.
In such a situation, hope came to me. A wide fruit stall in the street junction came into sight. Sighing in relief, I hurried over. By now, the metallic smell of the rain slept on my tongue. Greeting the kind vendor, I stepped into the stall. The mouth-watering smell of guavas and mangoes made me feel at ease. A lot of litchis and grapes adorned the front of the stall. Blood-red guavas were cut into stylish shapes and patterns sat like models on the red carpet. I smiled at my current environment.
I texted my mother again to let her know that I was safe. The rain came down hard and the huge, loud and strong droplets performed drum solos on the tarpaulin. The vendor offered me a battered but strong stool to sit on. Enjoying the cool atmosphere, I spent the next few hours of the short rain inside a haven of fruits.