The Road to Peacock Lake

It still gives me the little jitter of joy when I think of it. The musty smell of rain, the forests, the rocks, the insects, the peacock feathers. Whenever it rains all day here, I get all agonized by the thought that I can never walk down that road again as an indolent university student, with all the time under the sun, sit as long on a new rock as I wish to, caring a hang about work, life and everything.

Today's that kind of weather we would have beer on. Move to a shade near the warden's office as soon as it starts raining. Get terribly high. Ride bikes at the highest possible speed in the rain.

I guess my heart still lies in that campus. And also, on a certain elevated platform, right outside the women's hostel.