The little one was at it again.

It was as if the majestic, never ending skies opened up just for her. Maybe the clouds gathered, all blue and puffed up and said to themselves - let us break ourselves in the middle and pour down on her. Maybe the winds howled together conspiratorially and then decided that the best place to breeze through was her long black silky hair, beating the drops of rain which would eventually streak the dark strands with a glossy wetness.  

The wind was howling outside furiously and the clouds loomed threateningly and a bit too close for comfort. The windows started rat-a-tatting in a frenzy and I rushed outside, swooped the few clothes hung out to dry on the balcony, threw them over my shoulder and rushed back inside in a swift motion. As I threw the half dried clothes on the turquoise blue ottoman and turned back towards the balcony door to shut it before it banged a bit too hard, I caught sight of Megha standing in her usual spot.

I hurried from room to room to shut all the windows before any glass splintered from the furiousness of the storm but left the library room window on the hook instead of shutting it completely. I loved watching the little one in the rain and I lingered out of a strange mix of curiosity and pleasure and pretended to flip through a book that I had just bought and added on to my already overflowing collection.

I had a library all to myself, a dream that I had nurtured for all my life. Nitin’s high paying job and our sudden luck at receiving this quaint old cottage from an old relative whom we had long forgotten were factors that were both instrumental in getting us all our materialistic fulfillments. Nitin had wanted a swanky car and I had wanted to build a home library with my own hands and we both got what we wanted. Except that they were both things from different worlds and we began to live more in them than with each other. We shared a home, a room, and quite often a bed as well, but just not our lives. But I was ok with that as long as I was left alone to do what I wanted.

I had chosen a cosy, slightly dark room in the back of the cottage for my library project. Though the rest of the house had plenty of sunlight pouring through every single pore and crevice, this was my hiding place and I liked it a little dark. Dark wood paneling, old style day beds, rustic styled ceiling and floors that had  several hues cast on them by the tall lamps that I had placed in the corners were just a part of the picture and I had purposefully added no drapes or curtains to the old long windows that ran through the expanse of an entire wall. Instead I had singlehandedly painted them blue and it was at the seat near the blue window closest to the end of the wall that I now stood, book in hand, watching Megha.

My entire being awakened as I watched the single minded pleasure that this little girl derived in standing under the opening skies. The sense of abandon that she  mirrored was something that I had once possessed.

She was from the row of small cottages that lined the street just two blocks away. But the tall parapet wall that divided them from the richer and bigger cottages was so high that I had never gotten a chance to really know what transpired there. Nor did I have the courage to venture through the dark side streets to get there and for what? To get a closer peek at the girl who came out to the playground just beyond the parapet wall? To see a girl who came out only when the air cast a whiff of fresh, rain-soiled earth?

Barso re megha megha, barso re megha barso… I used to hum as it my humming would attract the rain gods and make them pour down just so the little girl would come out. I had given her the name Megha. Truth be said, I had never had an opportunity to find out her real name.

I watched from my place at the blue window as she jumped and danced in ecstasy under the rain gods as they emptied their bags on her. Locks streaming with freshly cast down rain water, the already thin and tattered cotton frock plastered to her thin body, eyes slightly shut due to the wetness that lay heavily on her lashes, the five plus something year old girl stood shivering and I thought that this was the prettiest sight I had ever laid my eyes on.

The rains stopped just as suddenly as they had begun and she began to make her way back to the street and I could see no further after a point. On a sudden whim, I got up and ran out of the cottage, leaving the blue window open. I moved, half running, through the side streets that I knew led to the row of small cottages and as I moved, I caught sight of the little one entering one of the small cottages. A badly clad woman, quite obviously her mother, was admonishing her and stripping off the wet clothes from her small body. A small glass of hot watered down milk followed and the little one sauntered off to the back of the cottage.

I could not enter the cottage, having no earthly reason to do so.

A few weeks later, it rained again and I went to the blue window in the library to catch a glimpse of Megha. No Megha? My maid was from that basti and she told me that the family with the little girl, Kamli she called her, had left in search of more lucrative employment.

Nitin got home late that evening and found me waiting at the dining table, waiting. As he walked in, surprised to see me waiting for him, I got up and slowly walked up to him and gave him a wordless hug. Initially taken aback, he did not respond but when he saw the tears streaming down my cheeks, he gently hugged me back.

We sat up and spoke for hours that night, of all the things that we had not shared with each other for years. All the conversations and confidences that had found no dialogue were now flowing with a little effort. There were some recriminations and some accusations, but mostly there were tears and hugs and the air was plump with the promise of tomorrow.

Our fourteen year old marriage was given a lease of life that night and while I found myself at the blue window just as often as before, however I no longer stood there, looking out yearningly. In fact, Nitin joined me at the window now, when the skies opened up, with a cup of coffee brewed just the way I liked it.