Today the weather forecast was to have another thundershower around the afternoon. But it didn’t happen. I am a bit sad, as somehow, I was getting very used to this afternoon storm. It reminds me of the Kalbaishakhi we have in Bengal during the summer months. All day there will be heat and towards the afternoon the clouds start to accumulate and finally a stormy downpour to result in a cool evening. Reminds me of so many childhood memories. That veranda, that garden, playing with my cats, sitting outside and studying under the stars by the light of the lantern, hearing stories from mom, yes phones were not there, nor was Netflix or internet. So, when we needed info we banked on our elders to tell us their experiences and life stories. There was so much time in our hands even after finishing all the daily chores. We had time to draw, write, play, talk, most importantly talk and ya daydream. I used to daydream a lot. My pens were my character. The pilot pen was always a pilot or an officer. Reynolds was the common guy. Red capped Reynolds was the heroine. And pencils were the riff raffs. There were innumerous afternoons and evenings when I would drift into daydreaming while at study. I think that’s where my story telling skills were honed. I had a very creative mind right form my childhood days. I remember I used to wear moms discarded saree and pretend to be a teacher. Dad had got me a leather blackboard which I had hung on the back of my study room door. While I pretended to teach my imaginary students, I used to actually revise my own studies. Such a fun way to study I remember.