Holidays are fun, more so if they are unexpected — the holiday declared because of rain when we were in school was sheer bliss. No festival generally falls in July and August, and hence, the schools did not have any holidays during these months. The rainy days came as succour to us children in the dreary times.

In those days, more than 30 years ago, going to school was very different from what’s it today. The post-liberalisation explosion of four-wheeler numbers on the roads was some years away, and even two-wheelers were not that common as they are now. Cycle-rickshaws and bicycles were the usual mode of conveyance to school. So, if it were to be raining during that one-hour period before school-bell time, it was quite possible that that day would be declared a rainy day because it was difficult for most to reach school. We particularly prayed our hearts out for a rainy day to be declared when we hadn’t done our homework.

Even if it was raining hard and everyone was sure that the schools would be declared closed, we would still dress up to go to school. In fact, we would all be more eager to go than on other days. How else would we be permitted to venture out in the rain! The onward journey to school wasn’t that fun that the return one was. We would go fervently hoping for the school to be called off and careful that our bags and uniforms do not get wet in case the school remained open. We became happy when children returning from the school met us on the way shouting that the school had been closed.

We did not stop and turn back however. We went ahead to reach school as the rainwater-filled field lay in wait for us to splash around with friends. We cared little as our shoes got wet and were delighted as it made a squelchy sound as we moved around in them. To adults, it may have been an annoyance; to us children, it was music. The journey home was real fun. Getting drenched was one of the great pleasures of the season. Ensuring that the school bag was safe from getting wet, we cheerfully surrendered ourselves to the downpour and arrived home soaked to the skin.

How we loved our cycles splashing in the puddles! How we pleaded with our rickshaw puller to lower the hood of the cycle-rickshaw so that we could enjoy the raindrops as they danced and fell amid the blowing wind! How those travelling on school buses gave us envious looks! Even the trees, with their branches heavy with rainwater, drenched those trying to take shelter beneath them as they swayed gracefully celebrating the monsoon! The rest of the day was spent in indoor games or reading comics if it was raining, and out in the park, when the rain stopped. Computers were something one hadn’t even heard of, and mobile phones were beyond imagination. Times, however, have changed. Rainy-day holidays in schools are a rarity nowadays.

With most of the urban schoolchildren travelling to school by bus or other four-wheelers, reaching school even when it’s pouring is not difficult. Even when there is that rare occasion when the schools are declared closed, the scourge of online classes takes over. The poor children and teachers curse technology and participate in (to borrow words from Thomas Hardy) the general drama of pain called virtual education where learning is, in reality, but an occasional episode. I pity today’s schoolchildren for what they miss — experiencing the grandeur of nature, dancing raindrops, swaying trees, carefree drenching in the monsoon, squeaking shoes, jumping in the puddles, and still managing to save the school bag from getting wet.

skandshukla@yahoo.com